


it only takes a motive

by Sylvalum



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Suicidal Thoughts, Two Black Masks, Violence, Warning re: Cognitions especially, Wildcard Akechi Goro, nonbinary akira, seductively: so what if I killed the principal?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvalum/pseuds/Sylvalum
Summary: Haru’s and Akechi’s father both had the same idea: desperate children make excellent hitmen. Some deals get made. Two years later, when the Phantom Thieves begin wreaking havoc upon their plans, Haru would be delighted to join forces with them and wreck some Palaces – but Akechi refuses to even entertain the possibility of giving up his own plan and trusting anyone other than Haru to have his back.Then Haru makes a deal with the Phantom Thieves, and the decision’s taken out of Akechi’s hands.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Okumura Haru, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Niijima Makoto/Okumura Haru
Comments: 55
Kudos: 166





	1. people-pleaser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> regarding warnings: characters within this fic have suicidical thoughts and while they never harm themselves, cognitions - looking exactly like them - are subjected to a lot of violence, usually by the character the cognition is based upon. murder and violence are also discussed very flippantly.

Akechi had at first intended to hate Okumura Haru. But he’d quickly realised how pointless an endeavour it was; they were the only two of their kind, both of them assassins in that other world – hell, they were even the same age. As soon as Akechi realised Haru had no interest in competing with him, he stopped viewing her as a threat. The fact that Haru was professional to a fault did also help her case – and she was intriguing. Before meeting her, he’d thought he was the only one that had ever summoned a Persona.

Their partnership looks like this: Akechi’s father wants information, scandals, and sometimes he wants people dead. Haru’s father wants scandals and the occasional bit of information in lieu of corporate espionage, and once in a blue moon even he summons up the balls to tell his 17-year-old daughter he wants her to kill someone.

They traverse Mementos together. Every Saturday after school they meet there at the first platform and head deeper in together, leaving the Sunday free for recovery. There’s some safety in numbers, as Akechi’s been forced to admit. And she’s not terrible company.

Palaces are rarer, but together they manage.

When Haru’s father wants the chef of a rivalling company to hurl food at his customers and rip up the kitchen, Akechi makes it happen – and in exchange Haru kills a man Shido wants dead while Akechi’s swamped with police-school-media work. It’s efficient and keeps Akechi from _disappointing_ Shido, or Haru from disappointing her father. It works.

A month into their uneasy acquaintance, and Haru had told him to just call her Haru instead of Okumura-san. Though Akechi hadn’t returned the favour, so even to this night Haru says,

“Akechi-san.” She’s unpacking snacks from her duffel bag. They’re back at the platform for a short rest before heading deeper in. She stands up with some chocolate bars, and asks, as she hands him one, “Have you ever seen the Phantom Thieves?”

Akechi accepts the bar, and grudgingly admits, “Once or twice.”

He’s never outright told Haru about his plan, but by now she’d have enough hints to figure it out by herself. His plan for revenge has been a bit nebulous since the start, since he wouldn’t dare to write it down, the details changing with time. But the one thing Akechi refuses to compromise on is making sure Shido is hated by not just him, but _everyone_. Build him up, tear him down, and finally, when Akechi’s got him at his mercy and he’s lost everything… he thinks he’ll kill him, maybe.

Haru won’t stop him. But the Phantom Thieves have started to become a problem for Shido, which means they’re a problem for _Akechi_.

A pause, in which Akechi considers the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Called Joker, most likely Kurusu Akira from Shujin Academy. They’re all confidence, from their cocky grin to their red leather gloves, and Akechi’s been watching them for long enough to notice their dumb habit of adjusting the gloves and pulling them up and smoothing them down, even as they run. They’re the strongest of the group, without a doubt – the fucking catch is that _they’re_ the one who hands out medicine and drinks every time the Phantom Thieves stop to catch their breaths.

Without their Thieves, what would they _be_. What would they _do_. Will they struggle like a fish on the hook or will they gape up at Akechi and die, without a word?

It’s a job. It’s all Akechi is.

Joker’s death and the whole plot surrounding it all seem so distant right now. But Haru is the closest thing Akechi has to a confidant. And vice versa. So he says, “Why do you ask?”

“Don’t you think it’s curious how they steal hearts?” She stares right at him, and muses out loud, “I didn’t think it was possible. To change someone without destroying them. But they’ve managed to find a way.”

Akechi and Haru are similar in many ways.

The one difference that undoes them is that Haru only wants her father stopped. Wants to have a family again. Akechi wants his father _ruined_. He wants everything Shido has ever worked for ripped to shreds as he’s forced to watch, no matter how long it takes to achieve.

He would die for this plan.

He doubts Haru would be prepared to die for _anything_.

Akechi could sneer, dismiss her, feign disinterest – instead he remembers the time Haru dragged his broken body to safety and splinted his arm and says, “I don’t understand how they know so much, either.” The Phantom Thieves are amateurs. They’ve only been at it for a few months, who the fuck gives _them_ the right to know more than Akechi does about the metaverse? They haven’t bled and struggled for years in the depths of this accursed underground, haven’t killed and fought for every secret. Haru has given more to this place than any of them ever has or will.

Haru, still looking at him, says, “I’m going to find out. I’m going to find them and make them tell me how they do it, and them I’m going to change my father’s heart.”

And there it is. Abruptly, Akechi feels irrationally angry – an emotion which sure as fuck won’t help him here. Everyone leaves Akechi, eventually. Just because Haru was the same kind of sinner as him didn’t ever _mean_ anything, fucking idiot, and he’s going to have to say something to her. Robin Hood twists his face into TV-Akechi’s smile and he says, “It seems this is where we go our separate ways, then.”

“We don’t have to!” Haru says. “You could change your father’s heart, too.”

Akechi doesn’t answer, and Haru looks away.

“I just don’t understand why you’ve been waiting so long,” she says. “What if your father finds out and has you killed?”

“That won’t happen,” says Akechi, calmly and precisely.

“It could,” insists Haru. Akechi doesn’t answer, and Haru – despite how unafraid she is in battle – suddenly folds. “Sorry,” she adds. “I just… want my father to go back to how he used to be…”

It takes effort, but – he tries to imagine himself being in this situation. If he had a chance to bring his mother back. He can at least try to understand Haru’s choice, somewhat, even if he can’t go along with it. He’s worked too hard for too long to throw his plan away for anything, and absolutely _not_ for the goddamn Phantom Thieves. If he hesitates now everything he’s done, everything he’s _been_ for the last two years will be nothing. There is not one single bastard more tenacious than him in all of Japan, and the day when he’ll finally pull the trigger is closer than it’s ever been.

If the way to success is to go through the Phantom Thieves, then he’ll tear them apart. He will.

There’s nothing else than the plan.

“Best of luck to you.” Akechi’s smile is plastic. He doesn’t want to lose Haru. And he doesn’t want to share her, he wants everything they said to each other to be known only to them. But of fucking course the Phantom Thieves would win over Akechi in a question of choice, they’re always _better_ , aren’t they. “I’ll be in Mementos on Saturdays as usual, if you change your mind.” He keeps smiling.

Haru only says, “I don’t think I will.”

Haru knows Akechi will never get up. He’d have to be dead before he stops. Haru knows about Akechi’s plan to kill his father, too, and contrary to what Haru thinks, Akechi has the situation under control. Akechi has been playing this game for nearly two years – there’s no way Shido will beat him. It’s a very long and complicated game, too, and it involves the Phantom Thieves.

But Haru doesn’t know about that, and she won’t. Haru doesn’t know about the plan to frame the Phantom Thieves for the murder of whoever comes out at the top of that site’s stupid polls, and Haru doesn’t know about the plan to kill Joker, she doesn’t know about the point of Medjed and the Detective Prince.

Which is precisely why Akechi can let her walk away to chase her silly dreams, instead of being forced to kill her before she ruins his plan.

* * *

Haru meant to track down all of the Phantom Thieves, find whoever’s Palace they’re visiting this time and simply – ask to speak with the leader. Maybe she would be polite, and harmless, and so very much in need of their assistance. Or perhaps she would be bold, and unafraid, and threaten them instead. Even though that’s more Akechi’s style, to be honest. She prefers to already have her axe at the Shadow’s throat when she starts asking for favours.

But things never go like she wants them to go.

In her father’s Palace, of all places, she finds one single Phantom Thief. The kid in the cat costume, to be precise, and he’s hurt and bleeding when she finds him, and- she couldn’t leave him. So, she’d picked him up and given him a healing item and brought him to the real world-

-and he’s a cat.

“Unhand me!” he squawks, and squirms out of her arms. Haru’s too surprised to stop him, backed up against a car parked next to the Okumura Foods HQ as she is. As soon as the cat’s on the ground he turns on her and says, “Who – who are you? How do you know about the metaverse?”

He sounds like a little kid. His eyes are huge.

“I – I’m Haru,” Haru says, then winces. Maybe she shouldn’t have used her real name. “But you can call me Noir. I’m…”

The cat is limping.

“Oh no, are you still hurt? Do you need me to, um…”

This encounter is so far out into the woods by now that Haru ought to just give up. She got her hands on a hurt, scared child, and she gave him her real name, and – she still can’t just leave him. So Haru takes a deep breath, feels the familiar mask of calm slide onto her face, and says, “I could bring you to my flat. I’m not sure if human medicine would work for you, but at least I can offer you some food?”

“I _am_ a human,” insists the cat, nonsensically, but then he narrows his eyes and sizes her up. “Alright,” he finally decides. “But you better give me some answers!”

 _The same goes for you,_ thinks Haru. “I’ll see what I can do,” she says brightly. “Oh! What is your name?”

“Morgana,” says the cat, then lifts his chin. “But you can call me Mona.”

Mona refuses to be picked up, so they walk together a few blocks away to a nice but fairly inexpensive restaurant, from which Haru calls for a car. And it’s as she’s sitting a table in the restaurant and nursing a cup of coffee as she waits for her father’s car to arrive, that the ice-cold dread quickly starts to set in. Morgana was in her father’s Palace. A _Phantom Thief_ was in her father’s Palace. Haru has managed to keep her father in the Conspiracy’s good graces so far, but if anyone finds out about this-

If her father finds out she’s brought a cat home-

If the Phantom Thieves find out she’s stolen away with their smallest member-

No, they won’t. Haru forces herself to take a sip of her coffee, and smile at the waiter, and walk calmly towards the car once it’s pulled up. If Haru gives up now she might as well kill her father herself, give up on repaying all her debts and saving Akechi. Meeting Morgana won’t be a mistake, she’ll make sure of that. If she’s going to betray Akechi’s wishes like this then she _has_ to succeed in saving him.

* * *

Noir brings him to a huge skyscraper, and at the very top is a huge flat with an indoor pool and five sofas and huge panorama windows, and Noir says, “My father isn’t at home, so feel free to look around!” and Morgana starts to feel suspicious. And Noir digs out sushi from a huge fridge and says, “Here, have some. My father won’t notice,” and she smiles, but Morgana gets a gut feeling. And when Noir says, “You can sleep in my lounge, but you’ll have to leave in the day, so my father doesn’t notice you,” Morgana almost _knows_ it.

Her father is a dangerous man.

Then Noir shows him her wing of the flat – larger than the whole of Leblanc (no! don’t think about Akira!) – and she closes the door, and tells Mona to take a seat on a plush cream-coloured sofa, and then she sits down. And when Noir starts talking, and when Noir reveals that she’s the _Black Mask_ , the first thing Morgana thinks about is Ryuji.

Before Morgana ran, Ryuji said horrible stuff to Mona – but Mona said horrible things to Ryuji too! Morgana blew up and just- just snapped at them all, the only family he’s ever had, and now he’s going to die. And Ryuji and the others won’t ever know where he went. They’ll think he just snapped at them and ran away and never returned-

Noir is still talking.

“My father orders me to kill people by using the metaverse,” she’s saying. “I was in his Palace tonight because I wanted to find the Phantom Thieves so I could make you tell me how you change hearts, but… then I found you.” She looks at him, and Morgana tries to breathe. “Please! You’ll have to help me change his heart.”

Morgana sits very still and looks Noir in the eyes as he thinks very rapidly.

Her father is a dangerous man, because her father is Okumura Kunikazu.

Noir is a dangerous girl, a _really_ dangerous girl, because she’s the Black Mask. She’s killed people. She literally just _said_ that she’s killed people, and she’s been looking for the Phantom Thieves.

She wants her father’s heart changed.

She said her father made her kill people, and she wants his heart changed, and she saved Morgana.

He exhales.

And it’s not like he’s got much choice, is there?

“So if I just help you change your father’s heart, you’ll let me go?”

Noir clasps her hands together, and says, “No.” Morgana tenses. “I’m not the only person known as Black Mask. And their father is even worse than mine.”

“Not the only…” Morgana gapes. “How many Black Masks are there?”

“Just me and my friend,” answers Noir. Her voice is very calm and even, and her face looks kind, framed by fluffy hair. Murderer, _murderer_! Morgana reminds himself. “Their father is a politician, and he has many people in power backing him, dirty cops and lawyers and judges and businessmen – like my father. He wants to be prime minister, and-“ Noir pauses to take a breath. “-he’s the most horrible person you could imagine. Please, Mona, won’t you help me change his heart?”

Morgana never meant for this to happen. Two Palaces, together with the Black Mask… but what else should he do, _run_ like a coward?

Noir did save him, and take care of him, and give him sushi.

“Fine,” Mona says. He wants to add, _but don’t kill anyone,_ but he’s on thin enough ice as is. He clears his throat anyway and adds, in a pathetically small voice, “But leave the rest of the Phantom Thieves out of this.”

Morgana might not be the actual, chosen leader of the Phantom Thieves, but he knows a leader’s duty anyway. And as annoying as Ryuji is, as unconcerned as Akira and Futaba are, and how ungrateful they’ve all been ( _were they, really?_ Whispers a tiny voice he tries to ignore) he cannot let them get hurt. He refuses to let his family suffer because of his mistakes.

“Alright,” agrees Noir, and Morgana nods.


	2. cutthroat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you think we should be more cautious, Joker?” 
> 
> “Mona trusts her,” they say, and push up their glasses. “And she asked for our help.”

They’ve all been worried about Morgana for days, and Futaba knows Akira has barely slept. Waiting for the others to get done at school was boring, drawn-out, irritating, unfair – but the feeling of dropping into a new unexplored Palace is the best kind of adrenaline to wake her up. They land in a huge empty hall with enormous skylights overlooking space, already in their costumes, and after a look at the data her goggles are collecting Futaba happily announces, “Wow! This place is huge, but good news – if Mona’s been here, I don’t think he’s gotten very far.”

Lots of weird empty gaps in between areas and very solid walls blocking off much of the rest should’ve made sure of that. Plus, the empty void of space surrounding them on all sides.

“Thank goodness!” says Ann. “Can you see if he’s here right now?”

“Let me…” says Futaba slowly, and calls for Necronomicon.

The UFO quickly pulls her inside, and Futaba gets to work. Necronomicon shows her almost all the information she could possibly want about the nearby area, including a screen that shows her the team stretching and checking their weapons beneath her – their energy and health’s at max right now, seeing as they literally just entered this dungeon – and other screens showing her the real juicy stuff, like Shadow locations and heat signatures (which Shadows don’t even have). Spatial intel is also very nice, such as the fact that if they take that lift down there’s a lot more options they could try than up here.

“I think we ought to take that lift down,” she decides, and makes Necronomicon let her down. “Let’s go!”

They get in the lift and arrive in a boring white room with two doors, one of them locked. Futaba guides the team through a gross metaphor of a factory and through some other corridors, and there’s no sign of Mona. This is getting pretty nerve-wracking for such a basic level, and they haven’t even fought anything yet. What if they don’t find Morgana?

One last room, and a door with some kinda biometrical scanner for a lock stops them in their tracks. Which sucks, but at least Mona can’t have gotten further either, right, so Futaba stops to do a scan and-

“Hey!” exclaims Futaba, alarmed, and the team tenses up at her voice. “I see him, and – there’s someone with him! They’re right above you, up on that ledge!”

Everyone looks up.

There’s a white ledge above the rest of the team with two people crouched at the edge, one of them obviously Morgana. The other one’s wearing a hat with a feathered plume, and a black satin mask resting on an oddly familiar face, which Futaba quickly references against Haru Okumura’s face, and- yep.

“Hey guys,” she says. “That’s the daughter of the Okumura Foods CEO!”

In the same instant, Makoto says tensely, staring at the fast-food heiress, “Her mask is black.”

“Her _mask_?” Ryuji echoes, and then his eyes widen. “Wait.”

“She’s the Black Mask?!” exclaims Ann.

Yeah that’s right, _wait_ a fucking minute.

Futaba said she wanted to find her mother’s killer, the one who’s been causing the mental shutdowns, but – right now? Right here? And why is _Mona with her?_ Futaba hates feeling afraid, she hates it, hates it-

The both of them stand up, all of a sudden, and then they jump. They land right in front of the Phantom Thieves, and Akira holds up a hand to make the others stay back.

“Wait!” exclaims Morgana, and holds up his paw, too. “Let us explain!”

* * *

Haru is so good at acting calm that she can nearly fool herself, too.

The Phantom Thieves have a hideout. The Phantom Thieves meet up in the attic of a charming little backstreet café and discuss their plans, sitting around a table with snacks and soda. The Phantom Thieves brought her here and are now all _staring_ at her, where she’s drowning in her jumper and continuously reminding herself to sit up straight and not falter. They’re just people her age. She can deal with it.

They’ve all heard of Black Mask already, of course – the moniker she shares with Akechi. And they all saw her metaverse outfit, the black satin framing her eyes.

“You’re the Black mask,” says Queen. Her voice is hard and so are her eyes.

“Yes,” Haru agrees. “I’m one of the people known as Black Mask.”

And if she weren’t so desperate to be accepted by them so she can gain their help, she would’ve felt a thrill at the devastating silence and the looks on their faces, as they realise that she’s not the only one. She’s not proud of being an assassin, but she’s still _fought_ to be what she is, every scrap of respect she’s been afforded she’s fought for together with Akechi.

She doesn’t think she could’ve kept going as long as she did without Akechi, which is why nothing matters to her more than this. She doesn’t get how the Phantom Thieves can just change hearts as if it’s nothing. She doesn’t get how they learned, how they got so lucky. But know _she_ will learn. One way or another.

“ _One_ of them?” says Skull, gaping, and shares an incredulous look with the boy who’d worn a kitsune mask.

“Yes,” says Morgana, from where he’s standing on the table. “If you’d let her get to the _point_ , she’ll explain!”

“So, you’ve been using Palaces to…” Queen begins.

“To kill people,” Haru admits, quietly. “My father cares only about the profit of his company. He’s had me eliminate business rivals on several occasions, which I did. I didn’t know of any way to stop him, to convince him to give up… but then you all started changing hearts.”

“Your old man forced you to _kill_ people?” Skull exclaims, gaping. “What the _hell_.”

“And now you are… asking for our assistance?” says kitsune-boy (Fox?), slowly.

“More or less,” agrees Haru.

Morgana says, “Her father does sound like a problem, right? Not to mention the other Black Mask’s father – Noir, tell them!”

Mona is a sweetheart. She essentially catnapped him, but now he’s trying to convince his friends to help her.

“If you’d just tell me how it is you change people’s hearts,” Haru says, “then I’m sure I could handle the Palaces myself.”

She’s not. There must be something about Shido’s Palace which has dissuaded Akechi from traversing it, certainly – and Akechi is even stronger than her. He’s got two Personas, even, and he’s worked tirelessly for years. There has to be a reason he’s stalling, right? Because he must know Shido will kill him if he even suspects that Akechi will betray him, and he’s spent so much time building Shido up, insisting that he has a plan-

“You want to do two Palaces _by yourself_?” exclaims Panther.

“Yeah, that’s crazy!” says Mona. “I mean. It’d be technically doable, maybe, but-!”

“The odds of death would rise by 70%,” says their navigator tonelessly. She sat down right next to Joker, the leader, when the meeting first began and hasn’t said a word since. “But maybe you’d deserve that,” she says, idly. “Because you’re a murderer.”

“Futaba!” exclaims Skull, but no one backs him up.

“The psychotic breakdowns.” Queen’s voice is hard. “Are those your doing, as well?”

“No,” Haru says. “My— the other Black Mask is the one behind those. _But_ ,” she says, and bows her head, “You’re right. I did kill people. And if you don’t want to help me, then I’ll-“ force the secret out of them, these nice trusting teenagers, somehow, regrettably, why is she such a monster- but she can’t let Akechi continue like this. She can’t let her father continue like this, either, and she can’t kill him. But maybe that one’s just because she’s just a coward.

Joker speaks. “The _other_ Black Mask?” Their voice is deeper than she’d expected.

“I won’t tell you their name,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

She’s never been able to protect Akechi outside of the metaverse. They met once, in the real world, at some awful party a year ago. They didn’t even talk to each other, then. It’s harder to threaten someone who seemingly has no meaningful relationships, you see, and in rich people’s houses the walls have ears.

Haru says, “I won’t say their name. But their father is much worse than mine. He’s a politician and he’s got the police and the court in his pocket, he’s got businessmen and researchers, he’s got hitmen-“ Haru takes a breath. “Several. Not just Black Mask. He could have Black Mask killed at any time, if they don’t behave.”

The Phantom Thieves look spooked, but still – Haru can see that they still don’t really understand the knife-sharp _threat_ he is. That the authorities are not and have never been your friend-

“This is _effed up_ ,” says Skull. He looks at Fox, and Panther. “That’s so- c’mon, we can’t just refuse to help her now!”

“But murder isn’t something we can just brush away,” Queen says sternly. “Okumura and this unknown politician sound like big threats, yes, but what if she’s lying? She’s the Black Mask. Nothing is beyond her.”

“We already knew her father was a bad guy!” argues Morgana. “And guess what? When I ran away and was about to die in her father’s Palace – because yes, he does _still_ have a Palace – Noir saved me! Why would she lie about this?”

“Maybe she just did it to get you on her side,” says the navigator, but – she sounds doubtful.

Haru stays quiet. If the tide’s turning her way, then she can’t afford to make a mistake by interjecting now.

“She’s still a murderer,” says Queen. “An assassin.”

“Yeah,” Skull agrees. “But like. To me, it sounds a lot like she’d never have done any of it without her father forcing her to. Right?”

“Madarame used me for my skills,” Fox muses out loud, his face sober. “For years. He took me in, and I… You all know how hard it was for me to accept the dreadful truth. That the one I’d been viewing as a father figure had only been using me. And I had no way of leaving until you all found me.”

Haru had seen the news about that. His statement lingers in the air, and Haru carefully doesn’t squirm as the Phantom Thieves consider what he means. Just – baring herself to them, hoping that they won’t turn her in or throw her out… it’s awful. She really shouldn’t feel that it is. But her only friend is Akechi, who’s brutally straightforward whenever he’s not on TV, and she’s never been this anxious to be accepted before. Because the Phantom Thieves are her only option.

And she doesn’t want a fight. Please.

“You have to stop killing,” Panther says, suddenly, and looks right at Haru. “Like, immediately. That’s our first condition, right guys?”

“You can’t be serious,” Queen says. Which is a very reasonable thing to say, of course. And Haru absolutely doesn’t blame her for being wary. But if Haru has to fight her to learn the secrets of the Phantom Thieves, she’ll do it.

“C’mon!” says Morgana. “We can argue about this later, _after_ we’ve taken down Okumura and Black Mask’s father!”

“No,” says Queen, very precisely.

“Why not let our leader decide?” says Fox reasonably.

They all look at them, and Joker hums. And leans back, tugs at a lock of hair, and delivers their verdict. “We all agreed to go after Okumura already. And an extra pair of hands wouldn’t hurt.”

There’s a moment before Morgana sniffs and says, “So. Any objections?”

The silence stretches and grows heavy.

“All in favour, then.”

* * *

Everyone’s grabbing their stuff and getting ready to leave Leblanc, talking quietly, and Akira feels quietly relieved. As much as Akira likes fighting Shadows, serious arguments still make them pretty uncomfortable. Sometimes you’ve _got_ to disagree, obviously – but they’d rather not the Phantom Thieves have any big arguments. And Okumura and Black Mask’s father sound like just the kind of people whose Shadows they ought to beat up, no question about it.

Anyway, they’re glad. But Makoto’s not.

She comes up to them where they’re standing in a corner and lowers her voice to hiss, “Don’t you think we should be more cautious, Joker?”

“Mona trusts her,” they say, and push up their glasses. “And she asked for our help.”

She approached them and told them face-to-face that she’s Black Mask. If she was planning something sinister, why reveal all that?

“She’s Black Mask,” Makoto says. “ _One_ of them. And she refused to say who the other one is. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Not as much as Makoto evidently thinks it should. And Akira already has a hunch about who the other Black Mask might be.

And has his number saved on their phone.

“No one’s scheming anything,” Akira says.

“I didn’t say she was,” Makoto says, a bit defensive. Then she lowers her voice even more, so much so that Akira has to turn their head to hear, “I’m saying that she could leak our identities to the press. I’m saying that she’s a _serial killer_. I don’t care how terrible her father is, or how nice she was to Morgana. Murder is unforgivable.”

“I know.”

“Her father might have forced her to do it, but she still did it. She’s a killer.” Makoto looks them in the eye. “Principal Kobayakawa suffered a mental shutdown just days ago – how can you not care about this? How do _none_ of you care?”

Ryuji or Ann might’ve cared about that, but – not Akira.

“I don’t think she’d risk leaking our identities. And we can’t let her father continue to force her to kill people, either,” Akira says, calmly. “We’re helping her. Morgana asked and you didn’t object.”

Makoto’s frown deepens. “I don’t understand why Morgana would ever trust her.”

Akira just gives her a look. “Maybe you should talk to her,” they suggest. Haru seems like a nice person, if Mona liked her. “Find out for yourself.”

Makoto clenches her jaw, then says in a forced cheery voice, “You might be right. I suppose I should _try_ talking to her, at least.”

Akira sticks both their hands in their pockets and leans back against the wall, watching the girls descend the stairs and leave the attic empty. It’s not that Makoto doesn’t have a point about caution being good. Being a Phantom Thief isn’t exactly without risks. Getting into fights and becoming famous is risky, too. Making deals with murderers is even worse.

They know that. They are so very aware of that.

But they just can’t bring themself to care. At all. They’ve got a chance at ruining shitty adults and saving people that no one else has, and hell if Akira would let that go to waste just because someone thinks they should be worrying about semantics instead of doing all they can.

* * *

Morgana slinks after Futaba as she leaves, and she notices him only when she’s opening the gate to Boss’s house. “No,” she says coldly, and glares down at him. “You brought _her_ to our hideout, Mona! She might be the one who killed my mother, and you-“ Futaba bares her teeth and gestures violently. “I can’t believe you!”

Morgana looks away. He doesn’t remember as much of human culture and all their complicated morals as he’d like to, but still, he knows that helping Noir _can’t_ be the wrong thing to do. But at the same time, he hurt Futaba by doing this. And Mona knows that Noir is dangerous, and a murderer – just a few days ago he’d thought she was going to kill him! But she didn’t. She never did. She listened to him and helped him instead.

But that doesn’t change the fact that Futaba’s mother is dead.

“You shouldn’t have come to Okumura’s Palace,” says Morgana. “We didn’t mean to run into you.”

“Oh?” says Futaba, and sniffs. “You meant to just run away forever, did you? We were worried about you, you stupid kitty!”

“You were?” Mona knew that, of course. Why would he have doubted them, at all, when they’ve been so nice and grateful for his presence- okay, no, let’s be honest. He was a little doubtful, sure, but he knew that Akira at least must’ve been worried. Maybe not the others, but.

“Yes we were,” says Futaba, and crosses her arms. They’re just standing outside the gate to the Sakura house. “And then we found you, and suddenly you’d become best friends with a-“ she lowers her voice, “-a serial killer! Even if she was nice to you, how could you, Mona?”

“It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go,” mumbles Morgana. What a petty thing to say. And not what Futaba deserves. So he steels himself, takes a deep breath and looks up at Futaba, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Futaba stares down at him. “Are you?”

“Why don’t we go inside and talk?” says Mona. If Akira survived this long without him, then they can surely survive one more night.

Futaba doesn’t say anything, but she opens the gate for Mona and lets him into the house. Boss is in the kitchen doing something when they come inside, but Futaba just says that she’s going up to her room and that Mona’s with her, and Boss says that’s fine. “There’s left-overs in the fridge if you want any,” he adds. “And you can probably find something for the cat, too.”

“No worries, Sojiro!” says Futaba. “I think I’ll just go to sleep.”

Futaba’s room is the same as always. Morgana jumps up on her bed while Futaba takes a seat in her desk chair, then spins around so that she can stare Mona down. She points at him and says, “I’m glad that you’re back, but I’m still super mad at you. Okay? So don’t you dare run away again, because we – were seriously worried.” She scowls at him. “Got it?”

“Okay,” Mona agrees, quickly.

“Good.” Futaba nods sharply, once. She pulls her legs up and hugs them to her chest. “I can’t believe you brought someone so dangerous to us, even if it was a mistake. I’m so mad at Okumura. And I’m so mad at her friend! Either Okumura killed my – my mom, or her friend did, or…”

Futaba trails off. “I hate this! Because Okumura’s a murderer and she’s still just in high school! What the fuck! And if her father is really making her – making her kill people, then he’s despicable. And I’d want to help her. I’d _feel bad_ for her. But she destroyed my family, so like, fuck her. I kinda want to help her, but I also never want to see her again, or talk to her.” Futaba closes her eyes. “And I… I want to think this is all just a big trick, some lie – because the Black Mask can’t just be a kid like us, right? But that’s what I wanted to think about my mom’s death. That it wasn’t real. And.” She takes a deep breath. “If this _is_ real, and Okumura really is the Black Mask who murdered my mother, and her father really is an abusive shitbag, then I’ll have to help her.

“And I don’t know if I want to.”

Morgana thinks about that, then says, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I know,” says Futaba. She lets go off her legs and folds them beneath her instead. “I wanted to find the one who murdered my mother. And now she’s here. Except that even if Okumura – _did_ it, like actually committed the deed, she wasn’t the one who made that _decision_. What reason would some random 15-year-old have had to kill my mom? So, obviously she was ordered to do it, and then there’s those men in black suits who read the fake suicide note… those are the real criminals. I know this, logically. Okay?”

Morgana nods, and Futaba nods.

“Yeah. But I still want to blame Okumura, a little. And the other Black Mask. And that’s a whole another problem! Because their father sounds _really_ scary, if he’s got so many people working for him – maybe there was a whole conspiracy behind my mother’s death? So it’d be so much easier to blame just Okumura. And the reason I’m mad at you, Mona, is that I would’ve liked to have some time to think about all of this instead of having to see her right now, today!”

That’s reasonable, and definitely a lot less terrible than what Morgana was envisioning. He wants to help Noir, but – what if she _did_ murder Futaba’s mother? And if it wasn’t her, then it was probably her friend. It’s complicated.

“I’m going to have to research pretty much all of this,” Futaba says, and gestures behind her to the computer. “I’ll need to do – so much stuff. So you can head back to Leblanc if you want to.”

Morgana hesitates, thinking about Futaba sitting and looking at obituaries alone all night long. “Do you want me to go?”

Futaba’s turn to hesitate. “No,” she eventually decides. “But I’m just going to be looking at data, and you wouldn’t be able to help.”

Figures.

“Well,” says Morgana, and puffs out his chest. “If nothing else, I can keep watch for you!”

* * *

Makoto is good at keeping secrets because she rarely has anyone to even tell, and because often those secrets are all part of a much larger web she’s working on untangling and she likes to confirm her theories before revealing anything to anyone. Less people tend to get mad at her if she always confirms something before acting on it. She told Akira she’d speak to Okumura, and she will.

On her own terms.

When all except the Yongen-Jaya crew start to head for the station, Makoto makes sure to keep stride with Okumura so that when they stop, she can turn to her and ask pleasantly, “May I talk with you for a bit, Okumura-san?”

“Please just call me Haru,” she says. Her voice is deceptively cute, considering the fact that she’s a literal unapprehended murderer of multiple planned homicides. Not that you can judge books by their covers, but still, Makoto feels hung-up on it for no reason. “And sure, Niijima-san.”

They walk to a deserted corner a bit away from the group. Makoto crosses her arms and looks at Haru, who clasps her hands together and watches her patiently. Is she playing dumb on purpose? Makoto says, “You say you only want our help to change the hearts of your father and Black Mask’s father, but why would you care about letting them live when you’ve killed so many before? What’s your _real_ motive, Okumura?”

“Changing their hearts is my real motive,” says Haru calmly. “Is your sister not a prosecutor? If I let them live, they’ll confess all their crimes and be sentenced accordingly.”

Why does everyone always bring up Sae? Makoto is sick of it. “Just by coming here you risked everything. I don’t believe for a second you’d do it only for the sake of changing their hearts.”

“One of them is my _father_ ,” says Haru, sounding frustrated. She steps closer to Makoto and lowers her voice. Makoto should back away, but instead she stands her ground. “He’s an awful man, but when I was a child…” she trails off. “I would gain nothing from his death. I never wanted to kill anyone.”

Makoto certainly hopes that is the case. She lets her own voice drop, and says, “The principal of our school killed himself barely a week ago, after rumours about him covering up the Kamoshida scandal resurfaced. We were in Hawaii at the time, but not you. And we both know his death was a mental shutdown.”

Haru leans in even closer and whispers in her ear, “And so what if I murdered our principal?” Her voice is sweet but her tone acidic. “You know he was covering up the abuse and the rape Kamoshida was subjecting the students to. He was working for Black Mask’s father, too, did you know?”

Makoto would hate to admit that Haru has a point, but she’s not even thinking about that anymore. Makoto feels like all her muscles have locked.

“You said Black Mask’s father has businessmen, police, and lawyers on his side,” Makoto says, mouth dry. “What about my sister?”

She’s checked the nav. She knows her sister has a Palace. She knows the system is corrupt. If she puts all of these things together all she can think about is her father getting killed for trying to dismantle it, and Sae condemning him.

“No,” says Haru, and withdraws. “Not your sister. But her boss, yes.”

Makoto needs to be in control here. “So where is the other Black Mask?” If they were Haru’s friend and worked together with her, why the hell aren’t they here right now? Haru seemed so desperate to be believed, too- oh. “You’re trying to destroy the Phantom Thieves from the inside,” Makoto says, realising her plan all at once. Haru will win their trust by warning them of some mysterious ‘other’ Black Mask who doesn’t actually exist, while actually just gathering intel of them. It must be.

“What?” says Haru. “I – the other Black Mask doesn’t know that I’m here.”

A train slows down, and passengers start to move. No one passes their corner.

Makoto sets her jaw. “I don’t believe you.”

Haru says, “The other Black Mask _does_ want to kill their father. But I don’t think they _can_. They’re going to get themself killed if they don’t act soon, but they’re my friend, so I – I decided to take things into my own hands.”

“Who _is_ their father?” snaps Makoto. “Who’s the Black Mask?”

“Their father’s a politician, and his name-“ Haru lowers her voice. “-is Shido Masayoshi. But I can’t tell you Black Mask’s name.”

Makoto didn’t expect it to be a politician she’d heard so much about, seen so many TV appearances of, someone with so much… influence… and _he’s_ the one who’d ordered the mental shutdowns and the psychotic breakdowns? It’s almost too big to believe.

And especially like this.

“How do you expect me to believe there’s another Black Mask if you can’t even tell me their name?”

“They exist,” says Haru evenly. “And by giving you their name, I could put them in grave danger. I’m not selling them out.”

(Makoto gets that Haru is in a shitty situation too just _fine_ , Joker. But she’s still not about to let down her guard, let Haru – or someone else – betray them)

“By not telling us who they are, you’re putting _us_ in grave danger,” says Makoto. “If you want us to help you, you could at least pretend to trust us.”

Haru just looks at her for a long moment.

“Tell me.” Makoto repeats. “Give me a reason to trust you.”

The two only reasons Makoto hasn’t already tried to remove Haru from anywhere near the Phantom Thieves, is that it’d be risky for the Thieves if she did it, and that she likes to confirm all her theories before acting on them. Makoto knows she’s reckless and it’s her absolute worst trait. She’s not going to be too hasty, here.

Haru takes a moment to answer. “Tomorrow,” she says. “Let’s go to Mementos in the evening, just the two of us. I’ll introduce you.”

“Fine,” Makoto says, and finally takes a step away. “I’ll hold you to that.”

* * *

Akechi is a marvellous, brilliant liar.

He’s got the people of Japan eating out of the palm of his hand. He’s got all the people who meet him convinced that he’s just the sweetest boy they’ll ever meet. He’s got the god of lies in his heart! He’s a liar so good he tricked himself.

Because he’s not fine with dying for a cause as fucking stupid as taking down Shido.

He’d been fine with playing puppet just for the slim chance of killing Shido at the end. He’d been fine with killing people in the metaverse. No crime could ever be proven, so was any of it even real in the end? ‘If a tree falls in a forest when no one is around to see or hear it, did it really happen’? Ha ha. If killing and lying is all he’s good for, then shouldn’t he do what he’s best at?

He thought he was fine with the risk of getting killed himself, too – because he’s never really been especially alive to begin with, why should he be worried about a more permanent death. He was already dead.

He’d thought.

The gaping hole he’s got in his chest in place of a heart is hungry. Ravenous. It’s his biggest weakness. All that sustains it is the praise of the media, compliments from colleagues and teachers, the rare congratulation from Shido, and Haru. Mostly just Haru.

He wants Haru’s concern and respect. Their grudging camaraderie. The things Haru never told anyone but him, the pieces of himself Akechi would never even think to share with anyone else but her, despite how Kurusu always manages to manipulate him. He wants more of Haru’s time and if he’s dead he can’t have that, _you stupid piece of shit._

* * *

Haru does not leave business unfinished.

In many ways, becoming an assassin for her father had been a relief. Having her own duties to tend to, being so indispensable to the company’s success that all talk of marrying her away immediately ceased. She became so dangerous that her father _had_ to respect her. She could go out in the city without bodyguards hounding her, could decline invitations out to parties and brunches if the host wasn’t important enough in her father’s eyes. She could finally gain some control over her own life, and all she had to do was to occasionally murder for it.

Finding out that she wasn’t the only kid who’d thought so was still a shock though (maybe it shouldn’t have been). The first few uneasy months she was aware of Akechi Goro’s existence, they both made sure to stay out of each other’s way in Mementos. It had been Haru who approached Akechi first with the suggestion of working together for the sake of taking down targets more quickly, but nearly every time after that… it was Akechi who returned the favour.

He wasn’t nearly as nice as he acted on TV, and at first he almost made a point of it. How wretched they really were, how much he _enjoyed_ dealing the killing blow, look, Okumura-san!

Then Akechi realised, quickly, that they both enjoyed their jobs the same amount. He realised that they both enjoyed the same _things_ about being a hitman. The crazy rush of power after having been weak and insignificant all their lives, the freedom that the metaverse offered, the knowledge that they were the _only ones_ who could do this one thing. But while Haru did it all out of desperation, Akechi said he had a plan.

She thought Akechi must have felt just as trapped as Haru.

But Akechi was planning revenge. Akechi wasn’t just enduring, he was lying in wait. For him there was a _purpose_. Wouldn’t that have been nice to have? Because of course she _was_ doing it all of her own free will. She wouldn’t deny it. She’d take the blame for her actions. It’s just that _free will_ and _choices_ don’t mean shit when the _best_ option is to become a hitman, when you’re too young to escape any other way. She had no good reason other than surviving.

 _Why did you do it?_ Niijima asked her, today.

A counter: _Why did you strive to always have the highest grades? Why did you tolerate people calling you worthless to your face?_

Haru likes to think she’s always in control but sometimes the force of her anger honestly takes her breath away. This a bad time and place though, so she just waits it out. And keeps on leading Niijima deeper into Mementos. It’s Saturday, and it’s been one week since she last saw Akechi.

Haru knows how important his plan to kill his father is to him. She’d suggested that they change Shido’s heart, but Akechi would never agree.

Which is why Haru decided to go behind his back and do it, instead. Milady whispers such sweet words of betrayal, after all, and if Haru has to betray Akechi to make sure he doesn’t die-

She’ll do it.

Haru didn’t plan to be stopped by Niijima. Haru wasn’t going to return here to speak with Akechi, wasn’t going to give him the chance to figure her out. Haru was going to make sure her father’s entire political career revolved around keeping Shido happy, and then she’d change their hearts, and no one would die. But now Niijima is here, and she’ll never leave until she’s seen Akechi and-

Haru doesn’t know what she’s planning. She understands why Niijima would be suspicious, but this is so inconvenient. This is going to become a huge problem, unless Haru can make Niijima understand the situation, which is something Niijima seems to be trying her hardest _not_ to.

Being in Mementos always feels like being inside of a living thing. Their flashlights cut only small chunks out of the dark. Their footsteps make hardly a sound, as if swallowed by the tunnel itself.

Haru thinks about this: Haru’s own father had loved her, once. She has to believe that. But Akechi’s father has never cared for him. Haru thinks about the worst things that could happen. Does Akechi _really_ know Shido would probably rather have him killed than even risk him going rogue? You don’t just let your assassins go when they’re done. Akechi can’t leave and Akechi doesn’t seem to be able to kill Shido, and time’s running out, and everything Akechi does only makes Shido more powerful.

No matter how clever, how strong fast talented and popular, the trap is closing around Akechi and can’t he see it?

Niijima is still here, staring Haru down. One problem at a time.

At the next platform, Haru makes Niijima sit down on a bench. “Before we find him,” says Haru, “There are some things you need to understand.”

Maybe Niijima will give up, if Haru explains enough.

“We worked as assassins together for a year and a half. I collected information and killed men for my father, and – so did he. But his father has even more connections than mine. Rich connections. He’s paying off the police and the judges, he’s got yakuza on his side…” Haru watches Niijima’s face carefully, tries to gauge if she’s really listening or not. “Why didn’t we stop killing? We couldn’t. Black Mask’s father would most likely have him killed if he even suspected betrayal, and the best way stay in his good graces is to do all he asks.”

“But why did you _start_?” asks Niijima, who had a nice good father who got himself killed. Haru doesn’t mean to be so cynical, but – she’s had a stressful week.

“Because my father started talking about marriage, to some nice man who’d be good for the company, when I was fifteen. And because when I got the nav on my phone, he wasn’t surprised, and he told me to test it. And then he started giving me names. And then…” Haru trails off.

Niijima says, slowly, “I see.”

“Black Mask is an orphan. His father is the reason his mother killed herself. So while Black Mask started out working only for vengeance’s sake, now it’s been two years.” And Akechi hasn’t acted. What is he waiting for? Is it too difficult for him to get through the Palace, or is there a reason for why Akechi’s just stalling? There has to be something, right? “And Shido is more powerful than he’s ever been.”

“And Black mask can’t leave.” It is dawning on Niijima, finally. “He has no choice.”

“There you have it,” says Haru.

* * *

Most abuse cases never even make it to the police, had Sae told Makoto about two years ago. She’d been stressed, because prosecutors are nothing if not overworked, and at dinner she usually talks about work. The newest case she’s got, the problems with the system, how her co-workers refuse to cooperate. And about how there’s no one for prosecutors to prosecute if the police aren’t arresting people.

Most of Sae’s lectures stick in Makoto’s mind, though. And two years later Makoto is in quite a different situation, as part of the Phantom Thieves.

And the Phantom Thieves decided that they would help Haru and Black Mask. Makoto didn’t want to help at first, but now she thinks she understands things a bit better. And she’d been too hasty to judge, once again. She’d been an _idiot_.

The situation is very complicated.

It’s so much simpler when it’s just one person they need to get rid of, when it’s not someone so powerful. And it was definitely a lot simpler when the request didn’t come from a serial killer.

It must have taken so much courage for Haru to not only approach _anyone_ about her situation, much less a whole group of people who’d potentially be hostile. And she’d done it. She’d taken the chance and done it, and Makoto hadn’t even believed it at first, convinced there was some plot behind her actions. Convinced that anyone strong enough to have a Persona couldn’t possibly be stuck in a situation like that, that once you’re aware that you’ve got power you’ll just leave-

(Makoto wasn’t there for Madarame’s Palace, but Yusuke’s told her about how things went down, all the horrible things they found out. How difficult it was to accept what kind of man Madarame really was.)

That was so condescending of her. She was – she is too ignorant.

She’ll do better. She will. She’d been unfair to Haru, but that stops now.

And – Black Mask, too, deserves better.

Makoto is going to hear him out. He’s Haru’s friend, and- Makoto said she’d stop being ignorant. If Haru says he’s in a situation similar to her own, doesn’t Makoto have the same duty to help him as she does to help Haru?

No matter who he is. No matter that he’s a murderer. Makoto will judge the situation and all its complications, and she’ll be fair, and just.

* * *

Akechi is always so polished on TV. When they run into each other at the train station, he’s polite and charming, a little awkward – he’s both more and less like whatever it is he is in the studio. But his manners are always impeccable, and Ryuji was definitely wrong about his hair. And Akechi always stops to talk to Akira, listens so attentively to whatever response Akira manages to come up with that early in the morning. It’s almost funny how Akechi does that, spins a whole conversation out of two words and a nod from Akira.

(and Akira does like attention)

It’s nice of Akechi to always greet them. And invite them out to places.

Akira’s pretty sure Akechi is lonely. Lonelier than he thinks. Lonelier than anyone would assume he is. Akira’s a good listener, sure, but their company is not _that_ riveting. And Akechi never seems to hang out with anyone other than Akira, but well. Akira can’t know for sure.

Or maybe Akechi really does find them fascinating, and does covet more time with them.

* * *

“He’s stubborn,” says Haru. “I don’t think he’d ever let the Phantom Thieves help him.”

They’re walking again. Makoto can’t stop thinking about all those lies she’d fed herself before she’d awakened to Johanna. That she knew she could have it worse, yes. So, she’d stay nice and quiet about it. And many adults told her she was so nice and responsible because she always followed orders and did as she was told and never broke the law. She had worth in their eyes because she was useful to them. She was just a tool. A nice, quiet, obedient little tool.

Fuck that. Doing as you’re told doesn’t get you respect; it gets you walked on.

“What makes him so certain Shido won’t find him out?” asks Makoto.

“I think it’s just conviction,” replies Haru, softly. “He wants to kill Shido more than anything else.”

Johanna made Makoto see all she’d been trying so hard to ignore. Did awakening to their Personas drive Haru and Black Mask to do what they did?

Makoto knows that not all fathers are nice, or even decent human beings. Many of the other Thieves have talked about their families, and she’s listened to the others talk and-

Has she _really_ listened?

Sae told her once, that once Makoto’s made up her mind she doesn’t listen to any others. Makoto thought this meant that she was stubborn. Resilient.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps Makoto was very wrong about Haru. Haru can’t be out to betray them, even if she might be keeping a lot of secrets. Secrets that maybe, actually, aren’t Makoto’s business! Makoto was wrong about Haru, is the point. If Haru wants to change her father’s heart? Let’s do it.

“And is there no way to convince Black Mask to join us?” asks Makoto.

“I don’t think so, no,” says Haru. “But. Maybe. I hope he’ll just… let me explain.”

They run into a Shadow in a dead-end tunnel and take it down together. Summoning Johanna again makes Makoto think about how long they’ve walked on foot already, and how large Mementos really is without a car, and lastly, she glances at Haru.

 _May I,_ she asks Johanna.

She can’t dredge up any protest from within herself, so Makoto says, “Why don’t we ride on Johanna from now on? It’ll be faster than going on foot.”

Haru looks like she’s considering some kind of polite refusal, but in the end, she lets her own Persona dissipate and comes up to Makoto. She sits down behind her and carefully, carefully puts her arms around Makoto’s waist. “Um,” she says. “Is this all right, Niijima-san?” She’s barely touching her. Makoto almost imagines she can feel some kind of phantom-touch from where Haru’s touching Johanna, however, beneath the feel of Haru’s fingers brushing her stomach.

It feels strange, but – not uncomfortable. What the hell is Makoto doing. “You can call me Makoto, actually,” she says, anyway. “And hold on tight. I don’t know what’d happen if you fall off, and I don’t want to find out.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Haru feels far more solid than Johanna _then_ , with the warmth of her body pressed against Makoto’s back. Makoto just focuses hard on driving between the tracks. It’s a lot faster than travelling by foot, in any case, and after getting their duffle bag from the previous platform they speed through the area in just a minute. Next platform, an escalator down, and before they can even get off the platform Haru looks up and says, “He’s here.”

“How do you know?” Makoto asks, and takes the bag from Haru to sling it over her shoulder.

“I can feel his Persona.”

Hmm. That’s interesting, and definitely something Makoto is going to think about later.

“Well then. Shall we?”

Haru doesn’t move. “I didn’t plan to speak to him again. To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be able to convince him of anything, and the only reason I came here was that you asked me to introduce you to him.” Haru pauses. “I don’t think he’ll be happy to see you. I want to hope so badly that I could convince him to join us, but… It might be for the best if we turned around now.”

Makoto looks at Haru. “Do you want to?”

Haru hesitates. “I want to speak to him…”

“You could try, at least?” suggests Makoto.

“Yes.” Haru’s expression becomes determined. “Let’s try to speak to him… but don’t come too close.”

“I’ll keep my distance,” allows Makoto.

“Thank you,” Haru says, and bows, and starts walking. Makoto watches her go.

Ann and Akira made Makoto realise how out of touch with the actual students of Shujin she is. Haru had been in the same year as her in school this entire time, and Makoto had never even exchanged a word with her. _Now_ she has a really hard time understanding why not; her eyes just keep drifting back to Haru no matter what. And Haru _knows_ things. She’s been doing things in the metaverse for longer than any of the Phantom Thieves, and she knows Black Mask.

The _other_ Black Mask. Makoto needs to remember that Haru is a murderer, too.

But she’s going to help Haru, because Haru didn’t deserve anything that happened to her. Even though she’s a murderer. Even though Makoto feels strangely drawn to her. Makoto’s sister would probably approve of exactly none of this, but things aren’t very black and white anymore, are they.

* * *

Akechi tears his sword straight up and through a minor Shadow, and it splits into smoke. Haru approaches him as he kneels down to pocket an item it dropped, and he tilts his head up to look at her. Then he stands up straight, and he’s the taller again. “What is it?” he says. “Did you give up?”

They tend to jump straight into conversations when they run into each other. Small talk has no place in the metaverse.

“I found the Phantom Thieves,” Haru tells him. It’s hardly been any time at all, but it’s still a relief to see Akechi. In his costume he melts into the shadows, but Haru can see his face through the gap in his helmet. She tells him, “They taught me how to change hearts, and they said they’ll help me change my father’s heart.”

Akechi scowls. “So why are you here?”

Apologies, explanations, heartfelt admissions, goodbyes and helloes – Akechi cares for none of that. Turning away and closing your eyes doesn’t help. It’s time to be blunt.

“I need to ask you something,” says Haru. “When are you going to kill your father? Because you said you will, and that you’re working on it, but-“ _do not falter._ “What is it you’re waiting for? If you slip up, or if you’re not fast enough, he’ll kill you. You know that don’t you?”

She believes in her cause and her questions, and in the metaverse that makes her invincible.

“No,” he says, impatient with her stupid questions already. “That won’t happen. I’ve got the situation under control. Until the election I’m indispensable.” He scoffs. “Do you seriously think I haven’t planned this out?”

“And what will you do when Shido’s dead?”

There has to be a plan. Akechi has been working on this for two years. He started doing all of this because he wanted revenge, that much Haru knows. Or has Haru too been blinded by Akechi’s competence, and really- he is _just_ trapped like she is, and there’s nothing after the plan. An end and then nothing. They’re the same. They’ve always been, but Haru’s just weak and indecisive and too soft, and at some point she bought into all that Akechi was saying, was telling himself.

Did he ever plan to survive?

“Does it matter?” Akechi says. His jagged sword is red and always gleaming as if freshly bloodied. His helmet hides most of his face, makes him into just a black-clad parody of her first genuine friend as he hisses, “ _Nothing_ matters but revenge.”

“You’re my friend!” Haru vows, standing her ground. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself.”

His eyes shine red through the gaps in his mask. “Do not dare try to stop me.”

“And if I want to help you? If I asked the Phantom Thieves to help you?”

“ _No_ ,” he says, loud and clearly enunciated, throwing up a hand. “Shido is _mine_ to kill. You and your little Thieves, you only want your daddy dearest _redeemed_ -“ Akechi laughs. “You’re so full of shit.”

“And if we change his heart then he’ll forever suffer for what he’s done,” says Haru. In this moment, her conviction makes her forget that she’s ever had a doubt. “Please. I promise I can help you get away.”

“It’s not possible!” he screams. “First you did the dirty work for your father and now you do it for the Phantom Thieves – _it never ends!”_

Haru thought so too. Milady told her she’d never be free if she wasn’t prepared to kill for it – and so she only trapped herself in an even worse situation. She thought there were no other options – and there _hadn’t_ been, not until the Phantom Thieves. One teenager can’t do much, no matter how fast they can kill a man, but _several_ teenagers all fighting ferociously for the same goal? It can work.

But Akechi doesn’t realise it.

Reality tears apart behind Akechi to reveal Loki, and Akechi changes his grip on his sword. _Milady,_ Haru calls, widening her stance and lifting her axe.

Does he not get it? Haru won’t let him die for this. So, if to save him she’ll have to betray him, take down his father against his wishes, then she will!

Haru’s never going to leave Akechi behind again.

* * *

Akechi’s sword slams into the barrier Haru must’ve had Milady construct, and he snarls for Loki.

Loki blasts her with a curse from below. Haru doesn’t move as the violent red energy burns through her and up. She’s gritting her teeth and the second the onslaught stops she throws out her arm and Milady answers, nice and neat and as if choreographed. Akechi fights like he’s on a time limit and surrounded by foes. Haru acts as an executioner, calmly assured that her mark will inevitably die when she brings her axe down. They complemented each other.

Akechi dodges her blast. He’s in no hurry to get hit with a goddamn psychic attack.

This is going to take all night, notes a distant part of him. He lunges forward and Haru throws herself to the side, too slow. Akechi’s sword rips open a gash in her arm, shirtsleeve torn and reddening. He’s in control. He knows completely what he’s doing, and Haru’s voice can’t fucking _touch him._

“They’re different than you think,” she insists, “We’re all like you,” and why _must_ she be so relentlessly determined. The Phantom Thieves! They’ll rise so high, having only gotten more famous with the defeat of Medjed, and one way or another (the mass media is so useful) they’ll come to the decision to change Okumura Kunikazu’s heart, who Akechi will kill, and so their fall will begin, ending with Akechi putting a gun to Kurusu’s head. And the public will cheer as the leader of the Phantom Thieves is declared dead by suicide!

Haru could wipe her hands of the whole deal and be content with her inheritance, move elsewhere and start over, but she won’t. She won’t, and if Akechi didn’t respect her so much he’d _despise_ her.

And now he’s going to have to kill her before she gets _in his way._

“Die,” he hisses. “Fucking shut up and _die_.”

“ _Stop_ ,” yells someone, on a fucking motorcycle, and Akechi can’t believe that Haru would bring a Phantom Thief with her— no, he can, absolutely. Haru blocks his sword with her axe, pushing him backwards, and the goddamn biker yells for her Persona. She takes a leap off her bike to land on the ground the second before a nuclear attack whites out everything.

Fights are different in the metaverse. In reality they’re messy, fast, and the pain is immediate yet lingers long after you’re done. Here every move comes one after another, neatly separated like it’s a movie, and wounds hurt the worst when you get them. It’s impossible to die of blood loss in the metaverse.

A blue explosion. Blistering heat and light. Akechi throws out his arm the second it’s over, and Loki’s swing slams the biker back.

“Queen!” Haru shouts. Distracted, distracted. Until she whirls around to face Akechi, and her face is a shock to see. The order is already in Akechi’s mouth though, Loki reacting too fast. Megidolaon levels the field, throwing the biker into a wall and knocking Haru over.

All he’ll have to do is shoot her.

Clean, easy. Like every Shadow before her, and every word they’ve traded will be wiped away, unusable and outdated. Just like every person before her she’ll become nothing to him, he’ll be nothing to her and again, he’ll be alone. Nothing but a gaping void. The one person he’s shown all of himself to, and he’ll have to kill her.

What a fucking waste of a life, what has Akechi ever done to help her? Haru’s been – been _kind_ to him. He’s so weak. He’s such a useless piece of _shit_ , why is Loki disappearing now—

Haru gets up.

She drops her axe on the ground, heavily. Then she takes the sword out of Akechi’s hands and throws it away. Her purple gloves look like a joke as she closes her tiny hands around Akechi’s clawed gauntlets, and still, Loki won’t answer. The rage is fading. Akechi can shriek all he wants in the abyss of his head but it wouldn’t do jack shit, he can _feel_ it. “You’re my friend,” Haru says softly, why couldn’t she just maim him instead, be done with it.

But she was never here to fight him, was she.

“I’m a murderer and still they-“ Haru squeezes his hands. He feels it through the gloves. “They gave me a chance. Please believe me.”

“We’ll help you.” The goddamn biker is back on her feet, slowly approaching and coming up behind Haru. Akechi’s mind is grabbing at stupid minute details, processing the inanest of thoughts just to act like it’s running, trying to escape or engineer a way out when there’s none. “Your father has to be stopped, and we want to help you.”

Another inane thought: the biker’s voice sounds a lot like Niijima Makoto’s.

Exactly like her, in fact. He feels so fucking slow and stupid that he actually says, “Niijima-san?”

Niijima, and it is her, stops. Then she looks at him like she’s seeing him for the first time and says, shrilly, “Akechi Goro?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as if I should quickly state that the characters’ opinions usually do not reflect the author’s opinions, and that goes for the whole fic.


	3. troublemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here they are, thinks Akechi. The leader of the Phantom Thieves. This is a perfect opportunity to speak with them in the capacity of Joker, 1-on-1, at last.

Mementos breathes and groans around them like some beast, as reliably wheezy as always. A train speeds past the platform they’re huddled on, and Haru opens her duffle bag and grabs a – a tupperware of carrots. “Here,” she says, and hands it to him, like not one fucking thing has changed since the last time she was with Akechi. He wants to be anywhere but here, wear any skin but his. Silently he takes the goddamn carrots, and another train rushes past the platform.

There’s one thing he really hates about trains, besides the people.

The wait. That amount of time every day when there’s nothing to do but think. He doesn’t want to think about anything other than what’s on his schedule. He doesn’t want to think about Shido. And he _never_ wants to doubt himself.

“Did you grow these.” He says, making sure his voice is flat and controlled.

Haru gives another box to Niijima and says, “Yes.”

Niijima, who is still here. “What should we do now?” she asks seriously. She’s taken off her mask and sat down on the bench next to Akechi’s; she better keep her fucking distance. “I think letting the rest of the team know about the situation would be a good first step.”

“ _No_ ,” Akechi says, immediately. His body locks up at the thought of explaining anything at all to anyone other than Haru, even just one person. Fucking Niijima is bad enough. Why couldn’t Haru mind her own goddamn business, he thinks, as if there aren’t plans to dispose of her father sooner or later. The Phantom Thieves just _had_ to target Madarame and Kaneshiro didn’t they, just had to go ahead and make themselves troublesome, steal Haru away, chasing after fame. Akechi can never win without losing everything first, and he still _hasn’t learned to stop trying._

Idiot, idiot, stupid fucking idiot child.

Every day this week he’d stood in the crowded train and thought about Haru. Hoping that she hadn’t joined the Phantom Thieves. Hoping she’d been smart enough not to.

“I have to agree,” Haru says, to Niijima. “I’m sorry, but can we hold off on contacting the others for now? Just until we’ve come up with something to do…”

“Your fathers both have Palaces. I thought it was clear that we should target them?” Niijima asks. “Haru, you already asked for our assistance. And Akechi-kun…” she looks at him. He expects her expression to be one of unease, or resignation – not whatever the hell that patient expression is supposed to mean.

“No,” he repeats. “No, I have a plan. I don’t need your fucking pity, and much less your ‘assistance’.”

“Your plan is to _die_!” Haru snaps, one sharp outburst before she softens. “Please, Akechi! We can help you. You don’t have to keep letting that man take everything from you anymore.”

No, no, no! He wants to tell Haru he’d rather die than accept the help of the Phantom Thieves, that he’d rather do anything. He’s so angry. There are no options. Dying would be to give up. He fought his way here _alone_ ; he could’ve found all those targets in Mementos without Haru’s help. It wasn’t pretty, but at least he did it on his own. He made himself into a weapon. He’s no longer the one left bleeding, he’s the knife, he’s the last one standing.

But the hole in his chest is bottomless, and it remembers every time Haru’s gentle hands treated his wounds, and every secret she told him.

Haru draws in a breath and asks, “Do you think you could give us some space, Mako-chan?”

 _Mako-chan_? Akechi wants to gag.

Niijima glances between Akechi and Haru. “Fine.” She puts her mask back on. “I’ll take the escalator up one floor.”

She leaves. The mind-fuckery of Mementos makes it seem like in just three steps away she’s disappeared completely, been swallowed by the darkness. Gone.

Akechi takes off his helmet, puts it down in his lap and runs a hand through his hair, and says very evenly, “Stop giving me advice, Haru.”

“I don’t want you to die,” Haru says, and sits down next to him on the bench. “And I don’t want you to have to do what Shido tells you to ever again. I want you to never even have to speak to him again.”

Akechi scoffs. “Without the Phantom Thieves interfering my plan would be working perfectly. I would get my revenge, all according to plan, and after that I’d figure out what to do next. On my own terms.”

“Would you really?” Haru asks. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why you would wait so long. If you say you want to kill him…”

“Yes!” Akechi growls. “First I’ll ruin his reputation and then I’ll kill him. That was the plan. And I would’ve had it all in hand if it weren’t for you and those goddamn Thieves.” She never even made a plan to deal with _her_ father. Akechi knows why, obviously. He knows her reasons and he respects her determination and her strength, he knows meeting the Phantom Thieves is the best thing she could’ve had happen to her.

He _hates_ her. She simply found the Thieves and had them agree to help her. She told them about him, she must have, and then she came here and found him and- _what_?

He looks at the blood on her shirt and thinks about what she’s said and wishes his chest would cave in.

“I should’ve been faster,” he says, and grits his teeth. “You’re right. I should’ve killed Shido as soon as I knew how to. But now it’s too late to change my plan, and I was _fine_ with that.” Lies. “And now you’ve ruined it. Unless the Phantom Thieves stop I’ll have to kill them all, or-“ or good _god_ , surrender to them and beg for their help. The mere thought disgusts him, makes his hands shake with the need to claw his own face off before anyone can see it.

“Let them help you,” Haru says, softly. “They’ve all been cast away by society, too. They’d help you. And a change of heart would ruin Shido’s reputation more than any blackmail could, if he confessed it all himself.”

“Why do you keep saying ‘ _them’_ ,” Akechi snaps, focusing on only the very first thing she said. “Aren’t you one of _them_ , now?”

“I don’t want to presume,” she says. “And would you refrain from changing the subject?”

“No.” He squeezes the helmet in his hands. “And I still don’t agree with their methods. Why the hell would I want to brainwash Shido and force an apology from him that he doesn’t even mean?”

“Because he’d take the rest of the conspiracy down with him. Don’t you care about that?”

Honestly? No.

“I have no choice in this decision, is what you’re saying.”

“You do,” Haru insists, of course, of course. But she doesn’t back off. “You’re my friend, Akechi-san. I know you don’t like the way the Phantom Thieves go about things, but isn’t it incredible that they found out you can change a person’s heart with the metaverse? We didn’t even know about it before they came along. So now that we _have_ a choice…”

“I could kill Shido’s Shadow alone,” Akechi says, because he can.

“But wouldn’t it be so much easier to let the Phantom Thieves help you change his heart?” Haru asks. “I don’t know whether they would stop you if you truly wanted to. But no one would know about Shido’s crimes if you killed him now, isn’t that right? You don’t have to keep doing this anymore. The world is too big and cold to fight alone.”

Akechi wants to kill Shido so badly. He spent two years of his life possessed by the idea; the irony and the justice of a bastard coming to kill his shithead father, the dream of his blood soaking into that ugly fucking carpet in his office, the satisfaction of finally ending it. He doesn’t want to _think_ about the odds that Shido will have him killed first, that he’ll never get enough blackmail, that anything could go wrong. He never thought about it. And now Haru practically screamed it at him, Haru-

He should’ve never said yes to her that first time.

So, he can keep going after Shido and probably die. Whatever, it’s always been a risk. Right.

Or he can – no matter how ill the thought makes him – give himself up to Thieves. He wouldn’t die. He’d survive this year, probably, but for what?

He’ll have to think about this.

There has to be a way to win this.

Haru waits for him to answer. Patient and quiet next to him.

Akechi’s breath shudders on the exhale, and for a second he hates himself more than literally anything else in the world, until he draws in his next breath and the feeling passes. He grits his teeth and says, “It’s quite impressive really. You had the courage to take the chance to change your life, Haru-san. Next to you, I’m just a miserable piece of shit.”

“No,” Haru says, as quietly as him. “That’s not true. It’s never too late.”

“Hm,” Akechi says.

A train slows to a stop at their platform, just behind the steel bars. The windows gleam red in the darkness.

“I always admired your conviction,” Haru says. “I thought… that if only I was as resolute as you, I could make myself… deal with my father. That if I had your determination, I could be free.”

Akechi turns the helmet in his hands over. Consults his well-worn old motto of it could be worse, _so much worse_ you weakling so just take it, and forces himself to say, “Fine. I’ll ask your Thieves for help.”

The virtuous, naïve Phantom Thieves, who’ve never committed a real crime in their sweet young lives.

* * *

Getting lost in Kamoshida’s Palace the first time had been crazy – not that the following times were any less freaky. But anyway. The guards had been terrifying, and the dungeons awful, and when Akira awakened to their Persona was probably the most nightmarish thing of all! Absolutely no offense to Akira, but Arsène is huge and looks like a demon, and before he’d gotten rid of the Shadows Ryuji was sure he was going to kill him.

Shit happened, obviously, and now Ryuji thinks Arsène looks cool more than anything. But that was _then_.

And the really crazy thing is that Akira just – managed to keep on doing that. Freaking Ryuji or the others out.

When they’d first gotten really good at manipulating and threatening Shadows, it’d been like watching some action drama, and thinking that the villain is super cool and eloquent but no way in hell would Ryuji want to meet ‘em. They could make even lines you’d think cheesy on paper sound dead _terrifying_ , with that blank expression and steady hand on their gun. But hey, Ryuji and the others got used to that pretty fast. Nowadays it’s almost funny, seeing Akira sweet-talk Shadows into begging for their lives or restocking their supplies.

Then there’d been that low malicious laughter, and the smirks – honestly, Makoto seemed the most bothered by that. Who wouldn’t cheer when getting in a good hit? And Akira is incredible in a fight; they leap onto Shadows and tear off masks, slink around them and right under their noses to ambush them. Makoto had remarked about Akira being so aggressive too, but

They’re so acrobatic – hell, in the metaverse all of them are – that Ryuji hasn’t been worried about jumping between chandeliers or following ledges high up in the air since Kamoshida’s Palace. They’re nigh invincible, anyways.

Almost. But as long as Akira’s conscious enough to call out the shots, it doesn’t matter if Ryuji passes out or not. If he can take a hit meant for Ann and Akira, spare them the pain, then of course Ryuji’s gonna do it. It’s just common sense. And he knows Ann and Akira would do the same. There’s always medicine to fix you up, anyways. Akira’s real amazing at finding people to buy stuff from, too, or other kinds of people who can help the Phantom Thieves.

They can get almost anyone to do anything. It’s incredible how good they’re at convincing people.

Ryuji’s never freaked out when Akira does weird shit, nowadays. He gets Akira. If Akira wants to help Haru and her friend Black Mask, then why shouldn’t they? Ryuji gets that Haru’s a victim too, and her old man sounds like complete scum. Everyone’s waiting for the Phantom Thieves to take down their next target.

Whenever Akira says it’s time, Ryuji will be ready to go.

* * *

Akechi has never brought anyone to his flat, and he never will. Frankly, just the thought of anyone intruding on his private (if not _safe_ , ha ha ha!) space makes him feel more than a little rabid. It’s nice enough, all things considering. It has all the amenities he’d need. His wardrobe is divided into two halves: clothes he’d wear in public, and clothes that don’t show blood stains and are easy to pull on when you’re limping. His bathroom cabinets are similarly divided: hygiene products and make-up in one, medical supplies in another.

Just putting on a hoodie instead of a neat white shirt feels fucking disturbing. He stands in the bathroom, considering his face in the mirror, and feels out of place.

There’s his public personality. He’ll get up in the mornings, take a shower and brush his teeth and wash his face and then, school uniform. He’ll style his hair. He’ll add make-up to cover up any bruises or blemishes. Arrange his bangs. Pull on his gloves, adjust his tie.

Then there’s Black Mask. He’ll return home at night, strip out of his perfect untouched school clothes. Wash the make-up off his face – he tries to deal with it first, when he has the energy. Then, he’ll address his eventual wounds. Apply salves, burn cream, rewrap bandages. Swallow painkillers.

Akechi pulls his hair into ponytail, wraps the hairband taut and _knows_ it’ll fall out anyways, a minor irritation but nevertheless something he’s tried to uselessly prevent every time, and pushes away from the sink. Shuts off the light. It’s Sunday. There’s no school but he thinks he might’ve had something scheduled for later, another interview for him to condemn the Phantom Thieves in, and there’s a certain point you hit after the anger. There comes a point when you’ve been so angry for so long, that when there’s no immediate goal to channel that rage into, you just burn out. His hate collapsed into itself, a black hole of exhaustion.

He won’t be recognised. Haru texted him with a demand to meet at some diner in Shibuya to talk with Kurusu, so that’s where he will be going this fine Sunday morning.

Street. Train Station. He crams into a train with the nameless crowd and realises that he’ll really have to talk to the goddamn Phantom Thieves. Haru and Niijima probably told all the others about everything that happened already, which- fine. That was unavoidable.

He’ll just have to cooperate. Nothing else matters, has mattered for two years, except for ruining Shido. The weird squeezing feeling that might be anxiety, or fear – it doesn’t matter. Joker doesn’t matter. Haru shouldn’t matter, but she does, so Akechi will just have to play nice with Phantom Thieves, and either go along with changing his goddamn heart or later sneaking away and- killing Shido. He’ll reassemble his masks and act like the Detective Prince, and if Shido tells him to kill someone-

Fuck, why not just go off Shido _now_? Just be done with it. The Phantom Thieves won’t even know until his death’s announced, so why not? One impulsive, stupid decision to end two years of planning and killing and waiting it out.

There’s the Palace to get through, but he’d find a way. Or he’d die trying. What a way to spend his Sunday it’d be.

Except he’d _never_ allow himself to die before Shido. Akechi has watched his every move and found out every single fucking one of his plans for the last two years, and that’s how he plans to continue. He’s going to haunt Shido until he’s dead. And the Phantom Thieves don’t know about Shido’s plans yet, or the plans to kill Joker and get rid of them. Akechi dying and Shido deciding to go after Haru next is something Akechi will never allow, so Akechi will just have to survive no matter what happens.

Just imagining having to _talk_ to all of the Phantom Thieves at once makes Akechi want to bite something, but at least they’re not Shido.

“Shibuya,” announces the PA system.

Well then.

Akechi gets off the train and focuses all his attention on navigating the corridors. Just one part of this morning, this morning that’s one small part of his day, one small part of his week, endless weeks stacked on top of each other. Akechi’s been lying in wait for two years but he’ll do that for _two more_ , if that’s what it takes to destroy Shido.

The thought of it is enough to exhaust him.

The diner is a bit crowded, a family in one booth and a gaggle of high schoolers laughing uproariously in another. Don’t they have better things to do? It takes a moment for Akechi to spot Haru since she’s sitting so close to the wall. She’s wearing sunglasses and a baby blue dress, and a matching beanie hiding her hair, which was what really threw Akechi off. He’s seen her without her feather-plumed hat only once before. The person sitting across the table from her, presumably Kurusu, is wearing a drab grey hoodie.

Akechi walks over and slides into the booth next to Haru, close enough to touch her – Akechi stifles the urge to look for anyone who might see, might report their friendship to their fathers. No one will recognise them. _Shut up._

Haru says, “There you are! Hi, Akechi-san.”

Kurusu Akira says nothing. Their glasses hide half their face. Do they have an opinion about the man they played billiards and went to cafés with being an actual murderer? Doesn’t look like it.

“I explained it to Akira-san already,” Haru says. “About your father.” Oh, she explained that he’s a famous politician with influence over every important organisation in the city using his money to kill people, did she. At least Akechi won’t have to lay out all the details himself if she’s already done it.

“That’s not all of it,” he says, keeping his voice calm and quiet and unlikely to be noticed by other diners. “There’s a plan to destroy the Phantom Thieves. Medjed’s threat was set up only to increase the popularity of the Thieves, so that their downfall would be all the more dramatic. I’m supposed to kill their next target to frame them for murder.”

“Their next target?” Haru asks, very quietly. “So, if we go after my father…”

“Shido would order me to eliminate him, yes,” says Akechi.

“Okay,” Haru says, and lifts one of the glasses on the table as if to take a sip but puts it down again just as fast. “So there’s a plan for you to kill my father. Of course.”

“And after that, I was supposed to infiltrate the Phantom Thieves so I could lead them into a trap and have them arrested,” Akechi says, and smiles at Kurusu. “And lastly, I would kill the leader. Supposedly, that’d be enough to break their spirit.”

Akechi has perfected the art of ending conversations and making people lose all interest in ever seeing him again. It was always a natural talent, of course; his personality is interesting in the same way an unidentifiable bug on your bathroom floor is interesting. He watches Kurusu intently for their reaction, but disappointingly Kurusu doesn’t say anything. They’re just watching him. Akechi adds, “Of course, I can’t go through with that plan anymore.”

Kurusu says, “And what happens when you tell your boss this?”

“Well, Haru-san wanted me to come join your little gang, so I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” he says, and smiles.

He can’t be rejected now. Oh god he really can’t.

Going back to being Shido’s pet assassin while unable to carry out his orders, with the threat of Haru and the Phantom Thieves ruining everything hanging over his head like an axe, is just unacceptable. Haru begged and threatened and negotiated to get him here, it’s all her fault, and Akechi can’t believe he would ever fold to her instead of just killing her and Niijima before they could tell anyone about his plans-

“I would like it if you joined us.” Haru moves her hands from the table to her lap, hiding them. Hiding any weakness. “If Akira-san and the others don’t have any objections, of course.”

Akechi much preferred it when it was just him and Haru against the world.

“I’ll talk to the others,” Kurusu says. “I’m sure they’ll want to help you both.”

“Oh?” says Akechi, quirking an eyebrow. “What makes you so certain?”

“They’re good people,” says Kurusu. “And if they don’t agree, I’ll figure something out. I promise I’ll help you, Akechi.”

Akechi laughs. Fuck, why is he _feeling_ like this? “Oh, fuck you. This is all your fault, Kurusu.”

They should’ve stopped at one Palace. They should’ve never entered the metaverse. They should’ve never come to Tokyo.

Akechi will have to accept this deal, and whatever they want in return he’ll pay. If Kurusu has the spine to do any of what they’ve promised. He opens his mouth-

-and then Haru says, “No matter how many times you say you hate all of this, Akechi-san, may I still ask… Wouldn’t you rather have a place to belong than revenge?”

Now that’s cheating.

“Ah,” Akechi says, and gets up from the table. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself to the bathroom. Pardon me.”

The diner’s public restrooms are very small. Thankfully, the size reflects the population, so Akechi stands alone in front of the single mirror and stares into his own eyes and tries to make a decision. He’s impulsive by nature. He knows this, he’s found ways around it, and in two years of playing the long con he’s never once slipped up. So, he can take the time to feed himself his own pride and try to make the smartest decision available to him – whatever that might be – _or_ he can stupidly and resentfully decide that between the only two things he has left, his pride matters more to him than Haru.

He can’t believe she _said_ that. He can’t believe-

The door opens. Akechi straightens up, smooths a hand over his hair, smiles, and realises that all of that was completely unnecessary as Kurusu takes a step inside. Why are _you_ here, he could demand, but they have the right to go wherever they please, and honestly, why is he thinking about that? Here they are, Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves. This is a perfect opportunity to speak with them in the capacity of Joker, 1-on-1, at last.

They take a few steps inside the bathroom, letting the door close behind them, and sticks their hands in their pockets. Akechi hates and envies and hates how charming they can make unbrushed hair and fake glasses look, and those bland clothes. Irritation, now there’s an emotion Akechi can use.

He steps close to them and says, voice lowered, “I planned to kill Haru-san’s father. I planned to kill you.”

“We’ve established that,” they say.

“That Sakura girl whose heart you changed; did you know I killed her mother?” Akechi found out just last night, sleepless at his laptop and with Haru on his mind.

Kurusu says, very slowly, “I… suspected.”

Is it relief or is it anger. Akechi laughs. “Is that all you have to say?”

“I’m not the one you’ve hurt,” Kurusu says, their eyes flashing. “I’m not the one you should be apologising to – which you don’t seem to be very good at, either. But fighting against each other is exactly what our enemies would want us to do. So let us help you.”

Akechi hates them like he hates people who get in his way and people who call him a child and all the students who laugh and smile in his high school, all the people who won’t stop taking and taking his time. And Akechi is drawn to them like he was drawn to Haru, like Kurusu and him are the only two people left in the world. The only two people with more than one Persona; while Akechi doesn’t exactly like Robin Hood, he _is_ an advantage, an extra option in battle, and now – an undeniable connection to Kurusu.

Akechi can’t fucking _stand_ pity, he’d rather bite off his own hand than give in. He’s not even close to a good person, but at least he’s Kurusu’s equal, he’s smarter and tougher than the Thieves. He shouldn’t ever need them.

But being rejected by the Phantom Thieves would maybe be worse.

“What makes you think you’d even be able to help me?” Akechi sneers.

“Well, we’re going to try,” Kurusu says. “We’re not going to just leave you like this.”

Akechi has to take a second to force himself to be rational, be _smart_ about this, because Kurusu said that they’d rather have him with them than not. That they’d want to help Akechi. That’s an opportunity. No matter Akechi’s feelings about anything, if Joker really isn’t going to throw him out just yet, if Niijima isn’t going to have him kicked out, if Haru actually does want him around-

Akechi’s known that the Phantom Thieves are a better option than – anything he’s currently got. He’s known for a while. There really wasn’t any way to get away from Shido before, but – as much as Akechi loathes the thought of it – changing Shido’s heart would do it.

He hates this-

Does Akechi _deserve_ it, no, of course not. But he’d never seriously planned to kill himself over this stupid plan, anyway. Or at least not consciously. There are crazy things he definitely doesn’t _think_ , or plan in detail or anything, but that he sometimes secretly feels without his brain’s permission. There are quite a lot of such things.

Akechi just doesn’t think about them, because Akechi never gets what he wants.

Kurusu is still looking at him. And overnight the thought of going back to his lonely, worthless life of killing people for the man he hates more than anything has become nearly unbearable. He’d rather pay whatever price Kurusu asks for than ever calling Shido again.

Akechi laughs. “It’s not fair how you just have it all, Kurusu.”

“It could be yours, too.”

What the _hell_ is that look supposed to mean?

“Well,” Akechi says, and turns around, and heads for the nearest bathroom stall and closes the door. Then he locks it, and sits down, and looks blindly at the wall.

It all began with Haru. Two years ago he’d had his plan, he’d had Loki, he’d been ready to go out there and tear open the throats of anyone to get in his way. Most of them had even kind of deserved it, anyway, as he told himself – or he’d just made them go psychotic instead. But then Haru had shown up out of nowhere, and _helped_ him, and her father was not only horrible, but she had to _live_ with him. And still, she didn’t want him killed. So she found another way to go about things. She made herself a part of the Phantom Thieves.

Akechi respects the guts and the insanity involved in that.

Really, all of this is rather simple, he realises. He refuses to let go of Haru, he refuses to die, and if he has to be _someone’s_ foot soldier he’d rather be Kurusu’s.

At least he’ll be repaying a debt this way. Not to his mother anymore, but to Haru. And Haru hasn’t killed herself yet, so he’d say this one weighs heavier. Akechi will cooperate with the Phantom Thieves just as much as needed to take down Okumura and Shido, and then… he’ll have to figure out something other to do than just assuming he’ll be dead after he’s paid back his debt to the Thieves. Because somehow, he has a feeling Haru wouldn’t be too thrilled if he died.

If anyone else told him they’d want him around, he’d know it to be a lie. But Haru- why would Haru bother lying about that.

* * *

When Akira comes back from the bathroom, Haru quickly notices that Akechi isn’t with them. Maybe it’s best for all of them if he takes a little break? Even though all this means is that he’s still in the bathroom, thinking things over. Haru’s been giving that endeavour her best shot too, but all she can think about on endless repeat is that Akechi is supposed to kill her father.

Akira retakes their seat, and Haru asks, “What did you two talk about?”

“I told him we’d help him.” They reach a hand up to fiddle with their hair. “His father obviously needs to be taken down, anyway, even if...”

Even if the Phantom Thieves obviously aren’t happy about having _another_ assassin depending on them. They may be called Thieves, but they aren’t actually criminals, they’re high schoolers. And anyone would be uneasy in the company of two hitmen.

Not that Akira, right now, looks uneasy.

Well, they’re here right now. So Haru asks, “Did Akechi-san agree? To let the Phantom Thieves help him?”

“I think he wants to,” Akira says.

“I see,” Haru says. That’s good. That’s a start. That’s one person she can maybe save. “If he said anything rude, he… um. I’d just like to say, as his friend, that I don’t think he’s handling all of this very well. At all.” Not that _that_ excuses him from anything, but. Just. It’s a lot. “… I don’t think _I’m_ handling this very well. So I understand.”

If they steal her father’s heart Shido and the conspiracy _will_ have someone try to kill him.

That’s just the logical conclusion. But they might have him killed for less, too.

Anyway! Akechi.

“Don’t worry about it,” Akira says. They’re younger than Haru, but something about their ever-present calm and dependable expression makes them seem like the older. “The others are going to want to go after his father either way.”

“About that,“ Haru says, quickly. “Perhaps we could scout out Akechi’s father’s Palace first. Changing my father’s heart would only make him a target, and Akechi’s situation is worse than mine, besides!”

“Yes, of course,” agrees Akira. “I’ll check when everyone’s ready to start.”

An opportunity to try and save her father, an opportunity to try and save Akechi. It’s a beginning. And she’s been so starved of beginnings for so long, trapped in this endless winter with no sign of spring, or warmth.

“I’ll check on Akechi-san,” she says, and gets up.

* * *

Akechi strongly dislikes waking up in places he’s had no say over. He can’t remember why he would’ve gone to sleep in a fucking dressing room of all places, his schedule would never allow for it, and – he knows for sure he went to sleep in his own bed. In his own flat. None of this makes any fucking logical sense, which is how he realises he never woke up at all.

The indignity of having a lucid dream about _work_.

The room is dimly lit. He knows with the absolute unshakable certainty of dreams that he’s in the dressing room of a TV studio. There’s a counter along one wall with mirrors on the wall and chairs in front of them, he himself slumped in one, and along the other wall are hangers for costumes. The room is cluttered. Everything’s bathed in a gloomy blue light as if he’s in a cellar, and he can’t see any make-up or other equipment on the counter, just a row of unpainted masks.

Sure. Whatever.

“How dare you?” says a voice, and in the chair next to Akechi sits an actress. She’s in a silver sleeveless dress with a matching tacky cloche hat, arms and neck draped in pearls. Her white hair’s cut in precise bob, framing the make-up smeared like bruises around her piercing yellow eyes. She’s glaring, lowers a cigarette pinched in one dainty gloved hand and stubs it out in one of the downturned masks.

“What?” Akechi says, brusquely.

He’s in his summer school uniform. He’s unarmed too, which he notices as soon as the girl gets up and advances on him.

“You’ve given up!” she exclaims. Akechi moves to stand but she pushes him back into the chair, fingers digging into his shirt. How _dare_ she, and then she fucking leans in close to him and hisses, “You’ve abandoned your quest for revenge. After all the Director has done for you, and you fucking dare to _give up?”_

Akechi does not like the smell of cigarettes. Every damn meeting the office smelt of it, ashtray on his desk, the smell clings to clothes like blood sticks to skin and glues the gaps between nails and flesh red. There was no way out. There is no way out. Either he’d win or he’d die because he’d never choose to give up, of course, but now he’s done it. He’ll give in, he’ll settle for changing the bastard’s heart, he’ll settle for letting the Phantom Thieves _help_ him. So what?

“No,” he says. “This is the only good decision I’ve made in two years, and you dare to criticise me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

The actress smiles wide at him. “And you really think you’ll stand _by_ that decision? That you won’t just slink back to your old masters as soon as it gets a little difficult, a little _uncomfortable_ to deal with the Phantom Thieves?” she tuts and pouts at him, then draws back.

Her punch hurts more vividly than any dream Akechi can remember.

She says in a sing-song voice, “Shitty worthless trash. You’ve never made a single decision that’s _mattered_. If you give up your revenge then you’ll be nothing-“

Akechi starts laughing. Really, honest-to-fucking-god, is _this_ the best his dreams can come up with? His face barely hurts, and wetness only starts to trickle from his nose almost like an afterthought. Haha! Regardless, he pulls himself together.

“I’ll always be nothing,” he hisses, full of spite, and shoves the actress back. “Spare me the lecture.”

He’ll defend his choice, like he’ll defend all his other incredibly stupid choices that led him this far. Of course he will. What else would he do. He is going to win the war by losing one battle, letting the Thieves have him, paying their price. His fury is nothing but fuel for the fire.

He raises a hand, wipes the blood off his face. That’d stain. In reality.

The actress looms in front of him, blocking his way but not doing anything beyond quietly seething. This is just an annoying dream. This isn’t a person he has to pretend to be nice and apologetic to, oh I’m so sorry you broke my nose sir – _fuck_ her.

This is Akechi’s dream.

“What are you waiting for?” he says. “Disappear!”

The woman explodes in a burst of silver shards, and Akechi throws up his arms to shield his face. The room shakes. He lowers his arms to see a butterfly inexplicably flying right at him, a fucking huge butterfly, and when it touches his face Akechi wakes up in his own bed. He twists in his sheets and jerks up to sitting, flicking on the light. His heart seizes; his lungs burn like there’s no oxygen. A voice is speaking inside his head, high and childish and very unfamiliar.

_Do you refuse to follow the path your father has picked for you?_

He presses a hand to his nose; his face and it comes away red.

_Will you share your bread with equals, or will you let them starve as you father would? Will you stagnate or WILL YOU REBEL?_

Fuck this fuck this fuck this-

Loki was cocky, Robin was self-righteous, and this one sounds almost like – like some kind of Phantom Thieves advertisement. He knows what’s happening but not _why_ it is happening.

 _I’m the Robber’s Daughter,_ crows the child. _Say my name!_

“Ronja,” he says as instinctive as twice before, and tastes meat on his tongue, hears some faraway crowd cheer, feels the phantom cold of snow up to his knees and a knife in his hand, fingers flexing. It’s over as quickly as it begun, and then he’s done it again. He can feel Ronja in his mind next to Loki and Robin; out of the senseless chaos he’s dragged up another mask to wear.

Akechi grits his teeth and clenches his bloody hands, more high-strung than if he’d been fighting. What the _hell_ was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> conversation between Makoto & Akechi that did not happen, but the intentions are very much still here:  
> Makoto: If you’re planning to harm Joker, or any other team member, I _will_ remove your spine  
> \--  
> And the Persona: Ronja, the Robber’s Daughter – a children’s book by Swedish author Astrid Lindgren, about a kid in medieval Scandinavia who runs away from home with her best friend due to a feud between their clans, _specifically_ rebelling against her father


	4. maniac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quietly Futaba says, “So they really did it? My mom _was_ killed by some... child hitman.”

Haru got the app about two years ago. She’d been taking the train, because she’d been with a friend (who would eventually stop speaking to her over the course of a few weeks, but that was something for future Haru to deal with!) and she’d been at the platform. She’d been in the restroom, specifically, and when she’d come back all the people had been gone, she’d checked her phone first to see if her friend had left a message, and there was the app. She’d activated it and materialised back in the crowd, just in time to catch the train with her friend.

Her father hadn’t been disbelieving when she mentioned the app.

This was back when Haru still thought that communication could get them somewhere as a family. Taking the time to have dinner with him and talking about her day never made him any less obsessed with profit and his reputation. Nevertheless, 15-year-old Haru tried!

He must’ve already been working with Shido by then. He was too unsurprised by the app. He must’ve known something, even before hearing about Akechi and what exactly his job was. And her father was the one who suggested that she start using the metaverse and seeking out Shadows, even if Haru volunteered to be a hitman. _This is insane_ , she would’ve liked to tell her father. Agreeing to a child killing people, giving her names to find them with.

 _This is insane,_ she’d thought when her first Shadow burst at the seams and splattered shadows on the floor, _this is insane, I can’t do this._ She couldn’t do it. But a few hours in Mementos once a month, compared to being under surveillance and dragged to parties and pasting on smiles and pretending she couldn’t see the leers or hear the whispers or understand the schemes-

Haru’s guilty. She’d been sick for days after the first time the news talked about a victim of hers, but with time the horror got lesser and lesser. She’s a murderer. She’s good at it, too. Her circumstances don’t absolve her of her crimes. But her father has to be stopped, and Akechi deserves to be saved, and finally she has a just quest, with a noble purpose.

On Monday morning her father’s late to leave and still at the breakfast table when she comes into the dining hall. “Good morning,” he says, and does not look up from his newspaper.

It’s almost impossible to remember that this is the man who used to pick her up from ballet practice when she was seven and then buy her sweets.

“Good morning,” Haru answers softly, and takes a seat. While waiting for the cook to finish making her breakfast, she takes a look at her phone. The Phantom Thieves chat icon, recently added, and which felt like a delicious secret last night, now in the light of day feels like something she needs to hide at all costs, so she quickly opens her chat with just Akira in it.

HARU: Good morning.

HARU: When will we be going to a Palace?

There’s a lot of things for Haru to worry about. But nothing else feels as pressing right now as her father, sitting at the other end of the table. She has to steal his heart. It’s all she’s been thinking about for months. But if they make a move and Shido finds out, he’ll be killed. Almost definitely. And there’s Akechi to be worried about, too – they’ll have to change Shido’s heart first.

Her phone vibrates.

AKIRA: maybe tomorrow

AKIRA: i need to talk to some people first, buy some stuff

The sooner the better.

Haru glances at her father – frowning at his news – and then she replies to Akira’s text.

HARU: Ok. Text me the location tomorrow and I’ll be ready!

So, tomorrow. What can she do to prepare? Restock medicines and snacks. Maybe tend to her gardens? She has to act normal, after all. And her father knows she spends a lot of time gardening. And if she’s gardening, she won’t have to think about doing anything else.

* * *

When Akira comes down the stairs, Morgana back on their shoulder, Futaba’s sitting at the counter. It’s been nearly three days since the Phantom Thieves decided to help Haru, and by extension, Akechi. And one of them is Wakaba’s killer. Akira hasn’t really seen Futaba since that first night they’d met Haru, and now she pins them in place with a scrutinising look. “You added Haru to the group chat,” she says.

Akira gingerly takes a seat at the barstool next to hers. “Sorry. I should’ve asked you first.”

Futaba lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I’m not gonna kick her out or anything. Ryuji’s all set on going after her father, and he sounds like a real ass so… I mean. I don’t _not_ want to target him.”

“And her friend’s father?” asks Akira.

Futaba fiddles with her headphones. “Okumura sounds bad,” she says. “But that politician guy sounds way worse. If anyone’s got my mother’s research, it has to be him, right? But he sounds really scary, and… I don’t know. I’ll help you loot his dungeon, but I’m not doing it to help anyone, okay? I’m doing it for my mother’s sake.”

“If that’s what you want,” says Morgana. “Of course.”

“And I seriously don’t ever wanna meet Okumura’s friend,” she adds, quietly.

Akira’s stomach twists guiltily.

It’s one thing to disagree with their friends about something or to want to date some boring normal bad boy. It’s another level of shitty and reckless to want to hang out with the guy who killed Futaba’s mother. And if it weren’t for Futaba’s situation, Akira probably wouldn’t care at all.

They say carefully, “Her friend will probably want to come with us to the Palace. We’ll be going tomorrow.”

Futaba’s frown deepens. “Already? I guess they’d want it done as soon as possible…” she goes quiet. She’s not even fidgeting, just staring thoughtfully at the bean rack. Akira hasn’t known her long, but this behaviour still seems pretty uncharacteristic of her.

This whole situation is pretty unfair to Futaba, yes. But it’s also unfair to Haru and Akechi to be forced to live like they do. Akira is not going to change their mind about Haru and Akechi. They must’ve barely begun high school when they started working in the metaverse; no matter how dangerous they are, or how many people they’ve killed, the real blame’s on Okumura and Shido. And Akira _will_ take them down.

“Anyway,” says Morgana, and swats at Akira’s shoulder with his paw. “You’ve still got school, so don’t be late!”

That’s right. Futaba gets up too and says, “Welp. Sojiro’s customers might start to show up soon, so I’m gonna head back home. See you.”

They’ve got school, Morgana’s right. They’ll just have to talk more with Futaba later.

* * *

In addition to her garden at home, Haru keeps a few boxes of plants on Shujin’s rooftop. No one usually comes here, after all – was what she thought. She didn’t realise how often the Phantom Thieves use this roof, too! She decides privately that it can be their own little corner of the school, since Haru and Makoto both have keys to the roof, and Akira, Ann and Ryuji seem so fond of eating lunch up here.

Today Akira gathers them all up there, and after helping Haru harvest some vegetables for tomorrow, they all sit down for lunch. All of them have bread from the school store or store-bought bentos, but since they’re all in the same boat, it doesn’t make Haru feel as lonely as usual.

While they eat, they get right into discussing Phantom Thieves business.

“I hope none you have made any plans,” says Morgana. “Because Akira and Noir decided we’ll go to a Palace tomorrow!”

“I’m free,” says Ryuji, and crumples up his bread wrapper. “Obviously. So… Okumura’s Palace, right?”

“Not yet,” says Haru. “Black Mask’s father, the politician I mentioned – oh, did I tell you all his name?” She didn’t. She knows she didn’t, as she tried to avoid any and all names at their first and very tense meeting. “His name is Shido, you might’ve seen him on TV?”

“Oh shit,” says Ann, and puts a hand over her mouth. “ _That’s_ the guy?”

Haru continues to explain, “If we were to change my father’s heart first, Shido would likely have someone kill him, and… I’m worried about my friend, too. We should go after Shido first.”

“That’s the logical course of action,” agrees Makoto. Since she already knows more than Ryuji or Ann, she seems content to return to eating her bento in silence. Haru still appreciates her support.

“Your friend, Black Mask…” Ann bites her lip. “Are they going to be there tomorrow, too?”

“Yes,” Haru says. Akechi will undoubtedly demand to come along, and they likely won’t be able to get inside without him, nevertheless. Haru adds, “I’ll introduce you tomorrow!”

Akira, who had been on their phone, puts it away to say, “The location of the Palace is in Chiyoda, specifically the National Diet Building. We’ll go right after school.”

“The Diet building, huh,” muses Ryuji. “If the guy’s a politician, I suppose it makes sense.” He grins. “And if we take down a crooked politician, we’re bound to get even more famous! Even Akechi won’t have anything left to say ‘bout us if we do that.”

Haru starts coughing, while Makoto awkwardly says, “Er, you may be right about that…”

“So, everyone’s coming?” asks Morgana, jumping up on a table. Even though some do it more slowly than others, everyone in the group agrees, and Haru’s throat feels clogged with emotion. She’s never really calm, never really relieved; she’s always got some stress and guilt pushed to the back of her mind, and she’s been trying to outrun her feelings of hopelessness ever since her father first started acting so cold. But now, with a group of people all agreeing to help her – it’s too early to feel any kind of relief or joy, but it’s hard not to get her hopes up.

* * *

Since they’ll be going into the Palace tomorrow, Akira decided they better spend the rest of today preparing – which is why they’re at the underground mall in Shibuya, getting those jelly treats from the sports store, before walking around and stopping at every vending machine in the underground and to get more than a few cans. Morgana must shove over a bit so they’ll all fit in their bag, and he grumbles a little but allows it. If there’s one thing Morgana never seriously complains about, it’s Akira’s dedication to getting the best gear and supplies for Phantom Thievery.

Futaba’s Palace wasn’t any tougher than Kaneshiro’s in any definable way – but every Palace so far has been appalling in different ways, and every Palace has its own rules and challenges. So. Better to get more supplies than last time, right. Gathering supplies keeps them from speculating about what the Palace will be like, or how things are going to turn out after they’re done, or whatever Akechi might be doing right now. He’d texted them the location of Shido’s Palace, but other than that, he hasn’t said a word.

Akira would like Akechi and Haru to be okay, obviously. And the others probably wouldn’t fault them for that, it’s just a decent person thing to think. But they also want to tear Akechi’s father’s Shadow from limb to limb, which might actually be more reasonable than their desire to hang out with Akechi, considering how Futaba must feel about everything. They want Futaba to feel comfortable, but they also want Haru and Akechi to feel welcome, which is a compromise Akira doesn’t know how to reach.

And Akechi obviously hates having to accept their help, which is another thing-

Oh, and there’s Yusuke. Akira goes over to him where he stands people-watching and tells him about tomorrow’s planned Palace run. Yusuke says, “That is fine by me. I would like to help Haru and her friend as soon as possible.”

“Yeah,” Akira says.

Morgana, hanging over their shoulder, adds, “And Noir said she’ll introduce us to Black Mask tomorrow, since obviously they’ll show up to help with their father’s Palace!” Akira tries to gauge how Mona feels about that, since Mona sems to trust Haru. Wary, but curious?

Yusuke hums, and says slowly, “I see. How intriguing… The National Diet Building, was it? I’ll be there.”

“Great,” says Akira, and they exchange goodbyes, and then Akira heads for the train to Yongen-Jaya. They’ll visit the neighbourhood supermarket and then head for Takemi’s clinic, and then – wait until tomorrow. Always the waiting, the endless spans of time in between the too short bursts of action. Downtime is necessary, good useful reasonable, _yes_ , but for them it feels like the tension only builds.

That evening they return to Leblanc, and Futaba waves at them from a booth. “Hi Futaba,” says Morgana, and claws his way onto Akira’s shoulder, leaving them with no good choice other than taking a seat across from Futaba. “How are you doing? Oh, hey, did Boss buy any salmon?”

“Nope, sorry,” says Futaba. “And it’s been boring back here, waiting for you all to finish school. I’ve been trying to do some research about what happened to my mom.”

Akira doesn’t _want_ to say it, wants to shy away from any serious conflict, but it’s the perfect opening and if they don’t say it now then when? “About that,” they say, slowly. “Haru’s friend said… that they’re the one who did it.”

Futaba stares at them, eyes wide. “Like, did they just say- no, when? What?”

“I met with Haru and her friend on Sunday,” says Akira. “To talk about how we were going to proceed. And the other Black Mask said that they’re the one who – killed your mother. It wasn’t Haru.”

“It was the other Black Mask,” says Futaba, slowly, and her expression goes flat, gaze distant.

Morgana slinks beneath the table then pops up on Futaba’s side, headbutting her leg. He allows her to pet him, and Akira hesitates. They fiddle with the strap of their bag, still full of juice cans and medicine packets, and wait for Futaba to make some kind of sign. The oppressive silence is starting to get at them.

Quietly Futaba says, “So they really did it? My mom _was_ killed by some – child hitman.”

“Yes,” says Akira, just as quietly. Akira would barely even think the whole thing was real and that Akechi had actually _done_ it, if it weren’t for what they’d seen in Futaba’s Palace and everything Akechi himself had said. And even knowing that, it seems crazy. That anyone would employ a 16-year-old to kill a person, make an orphan of her daughter. “Will you be okay?” Akira says, at last, looking at Futaba.

“Eventually, probably,” she says, and fiddles with her headphones, looking down at her shoes. “I still want my mom’s research back, just… I’m going to need to think about this.”

She gets up, grabs the manga she’d been reading off the table, and exchanges a few words with Sojiro before heading back to her house. Akira watches her go, then looks at Mona.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” says Mona, good old nag, and flicks his tail. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow, with a whole new Palace to infiltrate.”

* * *

Weeknights in Mementos are the only instances Akechi can be sure that no one will see him, and no one will hear him. No one from the real world, that is, which is the whole fucking point. Akechi doesn’t care for dreams, but if one wakes up with blood running down one’s face it’s hard not to _notice_. And then there’s that new Persona. So tonight, Akechi’s in Mementos to investigate.

He warps a few paths down and runs straight into the first Shadow he sees, which screams and bursts into two monkey gods.

Akechi yells, “Ronja!”

The Persona appears with a burst of cold to float right behind him, sitting with her legs crossed. She’s swept up in a simple grey cloak, and while her face and pale hair look human enough at a glance, all her limbs are made of straw. Akechi commands her to attack and spears of ice burst from the ground beneath the enemies, downing both of them.

Akechi finishes them off with his gun.

When he turns around and looks at the Persona, she’s rubbing her arms as if she’s cold, straw brushing against straw. His outfit didn’t change with her, and he feels – in control. With Loki at the forefront of his mind he becomes impatient, faster, more goal-focused- he doesn’t stop to think as much as he’d ordinarily like to. Killing Shido was always a matter of endurance and biding his time, and Loki hated that. On the other hand, Robin Hood makes Akechi more focused on individual moves, and it’s easier to be patient.

Ronja seems entirely too passive, too nondemanding. Fucking obviously there’s some trick to this.

“We made a deal,” Akechi reminds her. She lends her power to him, and Akechi refuses to ignore his desire for – fuck, it must be – _friendship_ any longer. So, is there anything else she wants, or even could want?

 _You made a promise_ , she agrees gleefully. _Never shall you abandon your equals!_

“Did you come from my mind?” he demands, but she doesn’t answer. Loki and Robin are bits of himself sliced from his heart, Akechi could agree with that, but what the hell is Ronja supposed to be? “What are you? What do you want?”

Ronja’s voice in his mind says, what a fucking nag, _it’s so lonely in here. You should strengthen the bonds with your equals._

The first thing he thinks about when she says that, nearly instinctively, are Haru and Kurusu. Haru, Kurusu, the fucking Phantom Thieves, and then a wave of fury hits him because now he understands. Ronja is – deplorably, despicably, he should’ve seen this coming – his manifested desire for some genuine human connection. Haru put that first crack in his armour, and now pieces of it are starting to flake off and if he doesn’t keep an iron grip on himself and his wants he’ll die. Danger and fear don’t make him stupid; desire does.

He can’t afford to be distracted before they’ve taken down Shido.

* * *

Tuesday morning Akechi wakes up, goes to school for a few hours, goes to a briefing at a TV station, does laundry, and lastly answers a phone call from Shido. It’s all mind-numbingly boring and ordinary; he could kill a person in the metaverse, then wake up and go to school and everything would be the same as the day before. If he died, the announcement would grace the news for hardly a week and then everything would go back to how it was before. Life feels meaningless to the point of absurdity when he’s left alone for a day. There’s no point to any of this if he doesn’t have a purpose.

Shido’s Palace is, of course, a good reason to keep working.

He takes the train and walks briskly the rest of the way. Kurusu will have the rest of the Phantom Thieves with them at the Diet building, obviously, but Akechi can’t hesitate. It’s not hard to spot the group of teenagers once he arrives, and he slows down as he approaches them. Haru is the first to notice him, of course. Then next up is Kurusu. They don’t say anything or react in any noticeable way, but somehow all their friends spot Akechi as soon as they’ve done it.

“Ah,” says the Kosei student. “That must be your friend, Haru-san, no?”

“Haru’s friends with _Akechi_?” exclaims the blond one; Akechi swiftly decides he hates him.

A girl with pigtails says, “No, wait, does this mean that Akechi is _the_ \- uh, you know?”

“Not so loud,” reprimands Niijima. “There you are, Akechi-kun. We’ve been waiting for you.”

They look at him with expressions ranging from annoyed to disgusted, with a brief detour into uncomprehending. It’s not exactly novel, but it’s been a while since anyone last was so obviously unhappy about Akechi’s presence. It’s almost funny. Sadly, he’s too tired and stressed to properly appreciate the blond guy giving him a stink eye.

“Good day to you, Haru-san,” says Akechi sunnily, before allowing his voice to go flat and dead. “And hello to the rest of you, I suppose. Is everyone ready? Let’s walk over to that group of trees, they’ll provide some cover.”

They go with only a few protests. As soon as Akechi deems them hidden enough, he uses the app and the pavement beneath them drops away as the voice from the app tonelessly announces that it’s begun navigation. _Alright_ , finally something concrete and useful to do. His helmet settles on his head and his gauntlets on his hands, his costume wrapping around him tightly and covering every inch in black.

The Phantom Thieves all materialise around him at the same time, decked out in costumes and masks. Shido sees them all as a threat, obviously.

Akechi reaches for his Personas, and the Robber’s Daughter bumps like a stone against his mind. Right. He doesn’t love the thought of bringing her out _here_ , amongst all these goddamn kids. Loki has served him well enough in the past, so Loki it’ll be.

A Persona, Akechi has come to realise, is a facet of yourself you just can’t bury or outrun. When he accepted Loki, it became impossible to ignore the fury he’d always had bubbling inside of him. Why collect blackmail and observe Shido’s actions quietly when he could go directly to him? Loki made him deadly. Robin Hood, on the other hand, was a silly fantasy he could never fucking shake – to be adored by the masses, to be some kind of goddamn hero. Smiling for cameras had never been as easy as after Robin Hood had taken up place in his heart, but that didn’t change the fact that Robin was a distraction and unneeded.

But if Robin’s dumb and silly then Ronja’s fucking idiotic, laughable.

Of course Akechi wants people to want him! He wants strangers to adore him, he wants everyone to be envious of him, he wants Haru and Kurusu to tell him things will be alright. He wants them to do it so well he _believes_ them. He wants Sae and Muhen and Sakura Sojiro to be pleased when they see him.

Rage, Loki, is uncomplicated and Akechi knows how to use him.

Ronja and Robin Hood can go fuck themselves.

If this were Mementos, and they were alone, then perhaps he’d think about showing off Ronja to Haru. But this is Shido’s fucking cruise ship fantasy world and every single Phantom Thief is here watching them, so Akechi won’t even entertain the thought. Better to keep an ace up his sleeve, to keep his third Persona secret. The game’s not over yet, now is it?

* * *

Akechi knows the keywords to his father’s Palace.

When they drop into the metaverse, the first thing they notice is that the National Diet Building is right in front of them, and it hardly looks any different from how it looks like in the real world. As their eyes adjust to the half-darkness and Akira’s friends exclaim about why nothing looks like it’s changed, Akira looks at Akechi. His costume is skin-tight and with a whole helmet, all black apart from blue warning stripes along his sides. A tattered black cloak fans out like crow’s wings behind him, and his gauntlets end in sharp claws and his helmet in an even sharper beak. He looks lean and dangerous. He meets their gaze and then rolls his eyes.

There’s a trick to this place. Akira turns around, ready to start walking, but the answer spreads out in front of them all at once. They’re on a ship. The National Diet Building is on a cruise ship, and around them are the bombed out and flooded remains of Tokyo, and then the rest of the Phantom Thieves turn around and gasp and Ann says, “Oh my gosh. We’re on a ship?”

“Surprised?” says Akechi dryly.

“This view is very… striking.” Makoto pauses. “But then again, most Palaces make the desires of the ruler pretty obvious.”

“More importantly,” says Ryuji angrily, and points at Akechi. “ _You’re_ the other Black Mask?”

“I would think that the answer’s obvious,” says Akechi, and gestures to his mask. “But evidently not.”

“Let’s not do this now,” says Makoto, but is ignored.

“No, dude, don’t start with that smarter-than-thou schtick – you went on TV and talked shit about us for months, while all this time you’d been doing _way_ worse shit _yourself_? For real?” Ryuji gestures animatedly. He’s been fuming about Akechi ever since they first met him, and Akira was expecting something like this to happen. “Why the hell’d you do that? Does your dad make you do interviews, too?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” says Akechi, seeming calm to the point of being bored. It seems Akira won’t have to intervene. “Now, does anyone else have any grievances to share? We’re wasting time.”

Akira still doesn’t like arguments, and doesn’t like yelling.

But the way Akechi’s acting right now, compared to his outburst at the diner, is making Akira wonder. Does he, too, change his entire personality based on who he’s with? Beneath that patiently long-suffering and sarcastic exterior lies an assassin, yes, but is there more? He’d switched between eloquence and curt fuck-you’s at the diner, he’d been teasing and confident at the billiards lounge, charmingly awkward on TV. The thought that perhaps he has even more to hide is intoxicating, intriguing, and Akira can’t stop themself from wondering what Akechi’s Persona will look like – and perhaps, that’s something Akira shouldn’t distract themself thinking about at the moment.

But it’s like Makoto said: the metaverse just has a knack for making certain things so very obvious.

“What you’re wearing… sure is an outfit,” says Ann with an awkward laugh.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the one wearing it, is it now?” says Akechi acerbically.

“Oh, that wasn’t what I meant!” says Ann quickly. “You look really badass. I’m just glad I’m not the only one in such a tight get-up anymore, haha.”

Akechi purses his lips and doesn’t say anything, which Akira thinks is a wise choice. And as much fun as this conversation has been, “He needs a codename.”

“Right. Your codenames,” says Akechi. “How could I ever forget.”

“I chose the name Noir,” says Haru shyly, and adjusts her feathered hat. “It means ‘black’ in French.”

Akechi has a lot to say about that, and how clearly superior Haru’s codename is compared to say, Skull’s, and soon the rest of the Phantom Thieves start to take turns explaining why they picked the names they’ve got and what significance they have – or what significance codenames aren’t _supposed_ to have, you snob! Akira tunes them out, taking a moment to refamiliarize themself with their Personas. Arsène is always in their heart, but they’ve also got a few Personas they picked up in Futaba’s Palace and a few they fused.

They look at the sea passing by the ship, with the tops of high-rise buildings poking out of the water. The buildings are caved in ruins with shattered windows, lifeless. It looks like a dystopian movie scene. The air smells like smoke and ozone and feels sticky against their skin. As they watch, the ship runs straight through the wreckage of a skyscraper.

“What about ‘Crow’?” says Akechi eventually, obviously irritated yet he makes himself sound calm, _bored_ , as if he doesn’t care at all. When Akira glances at him, he looks back and raises his chin, crossing his arms.

“Oh,” Haru says. “I like that!”

Akira stands tall and says, “Then Crow you’ll be. Let’s look for a way inside.”

Ryuji says, “This place looks just… totally wrecked.” He looks back at Akira and Akechi, and says, “Hey Akechi, shouldn’t you be more rattled by this? Oh wait, stupid question. You prolly knew all about this already, huh?” He glowers.

“What do you think.” Akechi says.

“You’ve been here before?” asks Haru.

“A few times,” says Akechi, still bored. “I’ve seen enough of this place to know we won’t be getting anywhere near Shido’s Shadow.”

“No way!” says Ann immediately. “There’s no way we’ll fail.”

“Five keys are needed to see Shido,” says Akechi. “Each one’s held by a Shadow. Or perhaps a cognition. The Shadows and cognitions in here are unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

“Huh,” says Morgana. “Should we take a look, Joker?”

Futaba’s been silent this whole time, electing to stand next to Makoto. Now she says, “C’mon, if there’s anything scientifically interesting in here, I want to see that first.”

Akira rocks back on their heels, hands in their pockets, and considers the idea of getting in a few fights. The team’s larger than ever before, and they need to make some sort of progress. “Why not,” Akira says, and the Phantom Thieves cheer and nod and start to check their gear. Akechi’s expression doesn’t as much as twitch, but he nods and uncrosses his arms.

They, despite all these weeks of Phantom Thievery, end up entering through the front door. And while the building _looked_ like the Diet building from the outside, on the inside it’s not even pretending to be something other than a decadent cruise ship. There are Shadow guards patrolling the corridors, so Akira sneaks ahead while their team hides behind a corner to rip off the mask of the closest one.

Their battle cry as they backflip off of the Shadow’s shoulders is their signal to the team, and they rush out to surround the enemies.

Akira picked Morgana, Haru and Akechi for the front team, but the rest are watching from the shadows. This will be the first time they all see Haru and Akechi in action – and Akira can hardly wait.

Morgana tries blowing the enemies off their feet with wind, first, but that doesn’t work. Akira then pulls out their gun – but the enemies aren’t weak to that either, and they only get in two good shots. There are four enemies in total, and they’ve encountered none of them before.

Next up is Haru, and she sweeps out a hand toward the enemies and says calmly but firmly, “Milady!” and her Persona blooms into existence above her. It’s a huge colourful dress with no head, only a mask and a paper fan, and when two of the enemies turn out to have a weakness for psychic attacks and she obliterates them in one shot, Mona sounds proud and almost awed as he calls out good job. Haru’s attack was precise and executed with ease, positively elegant – who wouldn’t admire her?

And lastly, it’s Akechi’s turn.

(Haru’s an impressive warrior but it’s Akechi who Akira’s been really watching)

He calls for his Persona with a growl as if he relishes saying the name – but maybe that’s just Akira – and a striped black-white Persona with long gangly limbs appears above him, flicks one clawed hand almost lazily, and the huge molten sword that manifested with it draws back before slamming into the remaining enemies. They split apart like they’re made of smoke, and Akechi cackles.

The silence that follows their performance is broken by Haru chirping, “That was a wonderful hit, Crow!”

Akira makes themself go forward to pick up the loot, pocketing the yen and throwing the healing items to Mona. Morgana glances between them and Crow and Noir, then says, “Were they showing off? It looked like they were showing off.”

Being the leader doesn’t require Akira to talk, only to be fair, so they just shrug.

 _What elegance_ , whispers Arsène in their mind. They can feel the weight of his attention like a hand on their shoulder. _Though I suppose the young gentleman wasn’t too bad either._

Akira and Arsène generally tend to be in agreement, so Akira finds it funny that Arsène makes a point of giving his approval here.

And then they go back to watching Akechi.

Another battle. Akechi tears through the Shadows like he was born to do it, and the single one that doesn’t die immediately is quickly finished off by Haru and her axe.

A third. Akira changes their mask and kills off two of the enemies themself, then watches Haru deal with the last three. Akechi taps his foot impatiently but tells Haru she did well.

A fourth, and Morgana gets injured. Akira sends him off and calls in Ryuji instead, and they watch Akechi and Haru take care of the enemies in a coordinated attack which could almost be a showtime, or some prototype of it.

A fifth battle-

“Are we quite done yet?” asks Akechi disdainfully. “How much time do you wish to waste in the _foyer_ of this damned place, Joker?”

“If they think we can gain something from these Shadows, then I think it’s best if we fight them all,” says Haru. “There are only ten or so left in this hall, after all. But that’s just my opinion!”

Akira ambushes one last Shadow, and it splits into three enemies. Ryuji downs two, and when it’s Akechi’s turn he annihilates all the enemies in one blow from his Persona, shadow matter spraying in all directions as they explode.

After that, when the whole team’s gathered again and are heading deeper into the Palace, Akira hears the others who are walking after them start talking. “Noir alone is terrifyingly good at this shit, but _Crow_? What the _hell_ ,” says Ryuji.

Akechi, leading the way, either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care. Haru, next to Akira, chews on her lip.

“Well, they must have a lot of experience,” says Makoto, and then there’s a painful silence as everyone remembers _why_ they have that experience. “And isn’t it a good thing?” Makoto tries. “That they’re competent?”

“I suppose,” says Ryuji. “But still! It’s not really comforting to watch, you know? And we’re _way_ behind them in skill, too, and it sucks!”

“Yeah,” agrees Futaba, so quietly Akira nearly misses it. “I wish I didn’t have to see it.”

The conversation dies slowly, leaving some sort of ominous tension in its wake, and Akechi leads them into a huge lobby full of cognitions. They’re people in suits and dresses, standing in clusters and hanging off of each other and gossiping, drinks in hand. They’re all wearing domino masks, but otherwise they look like completely normal humans.

It’s even weirder than seeing the unchanged exterior of the National Diet Building was.

“Are those guests?” asks Ann. “Can we like, talk to them?”

“Go ahead,” says Akechi, openly disinterested. A bleedingly sharp contrast to how animated, how livid and electrifying he’d been in battle.

Ann, Ryuji, and Mona look at Akira, who decides that gathering intelligence is never a bad idea and says, “We’ll ask them about those five keys.”

“It’ll go faster if we split up,” says Makoto.

Akechi shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “What you’re looking for are four VIPs and a hitman.”

They look at him, and Makoto says sharply, “Is there anything else you feel like telling us?”

With the visor in the way it’s hard to see his face. He reveals exactly as much as he wants to. “The guests are known to move around, on occasion. Perhaps you should interrogate the cognitions instead.”

They do that. They split up like Makoto suggested, and walk around the huge lobby and adjoining corridors eavesdropping and interrupting discussions.

So far so good. Whatever about this place that gave Akechi so much trouble must be further in – he’s strong, fast, and skilled, and he’d wiped the floor with those Shadows earlier. Yet he’d told them all that they’d never get anywhere near Shido’s Shadow. There has to be a reason for that. Akira can’t picture Akechi, any version of Akechi, just turning back without it being an absolute necessity.

They gather again and go over what information they’ve collected. “To open that door to the assembly chamber,” Makoto states. “We need five letters of recommendation.” She glances at Akechi.

He says, bored, “Yes, and?”

Makoto and Futaba recite all the people, their names, and locations. Akechi tells Makoto they should try the restaurant first. Makoto asks why. Akechi says that it’s the closest location. Futaba glares and asks how he knows that, and-

“Alright,” says Akira. “Thank you, Queen, Oracle and Crow. Let’s have a look at the restaurant.”

In the restaurant are several Shadow guards, but also a number of chairs and serving carts to hide behind. The guests are as ridiculously self-absorbed as in the lobby, and it’s easy to listen in on them while creeping around the tables. Unfortunately, the restaurant has two floors, and the staircase is guarded.

When picking the team, Akira decides on a few different skillsets rather than immediately choosing Akechi.

“Fox, Noir, Queen – with me.” Akira waits a few seconds to let their team shuffle around into their new positions, then as soon as the Shadow has its back turned to them, they leap out and grab onto it. They tear the face off and retreat as the Shadow shrieks and bursts into three floating manta rays, and together they surround them.

First up is Yusuke, who has his ice attack drained by all of the enemies. Next is Haru, and her psychokinesis does nothing either, shit-

The quickest of the manta rays hits Yusuke back with psychokinesis, who drops to one knee – and Makoto rushes forward to punch it with her spiked knuckles, and _that_ makes it bleed.

Akira quickly swaps to a Persona with Maragion and gives it a try. It works, but – these Shadows are a lot stronger than the ones in Futaba’s Palace, and now they’ve noticed that they’re here.

Haru rushes forward with her axe, drawing their attention-

And gets hit by Brainwash.

She stops dead for three whole seconds, which Akira uses to scramble over to Yusuke to throw up a shield over him, and then she snaps and rushes at them. Her face is blank as she swings her axe in a broad arc, and despite Akira’s attempt to flinch back she hits them in the chest so hard they hear something crunch and can’t stop themself from staggering backwards. They press a hand to their chest, stupid _stupid,_ and the pain spikes so hard their knees buckle. It’s wet and it’s the wrong shape, somehow-

They throw themself backwards but Haru gets in another slash to their arm before Makoto hits Haru with a deafening nuclear blast.

Haru drops to her knees.

Akira can feel the blood gushing from the gouge Haru made start streaming down their arm, but it’s not like they’ll die yet, _is it_. “Queen!” they snap, dragging themself to their feet by sheer willpower. “Focus on the Shadows!”

Makoto turns Johanna around, and this time hits the enemies with a nuclear attack.

Akira hauls Yusuke to his feet and sends him to join the fray, while Akira cautiously checks in on Haru, knife in hand. She’s rubbing her face with both hands, but when Akira steps closer, she immediately looks up. Her eyes widen, clear and horrified. “Oh no. I – I’m so sorry.”

“Can you stand?” asks Akira.

Haru gets up, quick and quiet, and helps finish off the last of the enemies with a grenade. None of the cognitions even turned their heads throughout the whole fight, not even when the attacks melted the carpet beneath the Shadows. Akira goes to collect the money and items that fell from the enemies as they were torn into shreds, and the rest of the team rushes forward. They fall to their knees gracelessly, body feeling heavy, pockets the items and then very, very carefully puts a hand to their chest. It feels like pressing on a bruise, wet and sticky against their glove.

They better take care of that.

* * *

Ailments and status effects are insidious, and nasty, and sometimes they’re worse than taking actual damage. But they’ve dealt with them many times before. And Morgana trusts Joker with his life, and trusts their judgement more than anything, and Morgana knows and believes Noir wouldn’t ever hurt them for real, but – that was still scary. That was actually terrifying!

Joker calls on Principality and lets healing magic sink into all four of them, knitting flesh together, while Noir looks down at her feet, even though none of this is her fault! Then Joker puts their hands into their pockets, and says, “Let’s head downstairs.”

“Joker-“ begins Queen.

Crow interrupts her, “This is why you won’t survive this Palace. All of you are far weaker than Noir and me. Not only could we maim you by mistake; the Shadows are too strong for you to handle.”

“Shut up!” snaps Skull.

How can he just say it like that? Maim them by mistake? “Do you _want_ us to give up?” asks Morgana angrily. Crow’s father is a horrible person, doesn’t he want him to be punished? The fights might get tough sometimes, and sometimes they get hurt, but… this Palace can’t be impossible to get through. It can’t be! If Phantom Thieves are backed into a corner, they create their own way out, they break the rules to win. “We said we’re going to help you, so we will!”

“Not like this, you won’t,” snarls Crow.

Queen sighs deeply. “As much as I hate to say it, Crow has a point. We need to get stronger.”

“If you can’t handle a couple of normal Shadows, what the hell’s your plan for when a stronger one shows up?” says Crow snidely, arms crossed like he thinks that makes him look more threatening. “Or a cognition?”

Mona bites his tongue, then says, “Alright, we get it.”

Skull growls, and then says, “Can’t we just go to Mementos and train?”

“The enemies in my father’s Palace aren’t as strong as the ones in here,” says Noir carefully. “We could perhaps look around in the first part there for a while?”

They look at Joker. “Let’s take a break for a few days,” They say. “We can try going to Okumura’s Palace on Friday.”

No one objects. Queen says, “Well then. Shall we return to the real world?”

Noir whispers something to Crow, who scoffs, and then Joker activates the app, and everyone dematerialises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here goes my attempt at making crow’s black mask outfit sound anything other than ridiculous without redesigning it :)


	5. knockoff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKECHI: What is it?  
> ALIBABA: we need to talk about ur dad
> 
> &
> 
> The cognition of Haru stops a few metres in front of them, hefts its axe, and declares tonelessly, “If you are bothering my father I will eliminate you.”

That night they lie in bed and follow along the Phantom Thief group chat’s glacier slow conversation, Morgana curled up at their back. Ryuji talks about the polls on the Phansite, Haru thanks everyone for deciding to help her and Akechi, and Makoto asks after everyone’s well-being. Akira replies that they’ll be fine; so does everyone else, nicely and politely. Akechi isn’t in the group chat, and Akira thinks about adding him.

They should probably ask first.

AKIRA: hey quick question do u want to join the group chat

Morgana looks over Akira’s shoulder at their phone screen but doesn’t say anything.

AKECHI: I’d better not.

AKIRA: oh that’s fine

AKECHI: I’m very busy, after all. I’d hardly have any time to check your group chat :)

Akira looks at his text for a long moment. Is Akechi always, without fail, very polite over text, or – oh shit. Maybe Akechi thinks his phone is unsafe.

“So is Crow going to be a part of the team, now?” Mona eventually asks. His eyes shine huge and blue in the light of Akira’s phone screen. “He said we’d never be able to take his father’s treasure, and he sounded so angry… Are we really doing the right thing? He’s still a murderer…”

Mona seems anxious, and doubtful. And while in any other situation, he would maybe have a point – not here. Akira will still defend Akechi.

“He only killed people because his father had him do it. Just like Haru,” Akira reminds him. They’ve been thinking about this at length by themself; how many crimes can Akira really excuse away with the knowledge that Akechi and Haru were forced to do it? But then again, who the fuck forces their kids to murder people? This situation can’t be blamed on Haru and Akechi. You do what you have to survive. Akira vows, “I’m never going to let his father get away with doing that to Akechi.”

Adults hurting kids, teenagers killing adults, people lying and betraying, manipulating and using others, again and again and again- Akira despises the system.

In a vacuum, Akira is both nothing and everything. They hold infinite potential to be, but with no one to reflect off of Akira doesn’t _have_ to be anything. Is that when they’re their realest self, or is that when they’re the least real?

Sometimes they imagine a world where they don’t have a team. Where no one would stop them if they wanted to do something really bad. If they wanted to do something out-of-character.

Morgana exclaims, “Of course not! But when Haru was hit with Brainwash today… I thought she was going to hurt you really badly! And Akechi is so dangerous, too.” He shifts anxiously. “And what if I turn out to be some kind of assassin too, or something really dangerous? What if I turn out to be a murderer?”

He looks pleadingly at Akira.

Morgana sometimes manages to sound like he knows all about humans and living in Tokyo, but Akira knows first-hand that he doesn’t. He’s not even all that clear about what the public would consider moral or immoral – and Akira doesn’t care much for the rules of society, either. Akira says solemnly, “We’re not bad people, and you’re not a bad guy either, Mona. No matter what you end up being. It wouldn’t be bad if you were more dangerous. You’ve been guiding us all this way and you’ve never led us astray.”

Mona looks down. “I’ve just been dead weight,” he says in a small voice. “Makoto is so much smarter than me, and we would’ve been toast in that last fight if Makoto hadn’t stopped Noir. How would you even know I’m not a bad guy, anyway?”

“Because I’m your friend,” says Akira. Morgana clearly needs to hear them say this. “And you’re not dead weight, and never have been.”

Mona is quiet. Maybe he just wanted to vent. Maybe he’s thinking.

Akira closes their eyes for a moment.

Morgana says quietly, sounding so much like a little kid, “You want me around, right?”

Akira sits up. “Of course I do.” They look at Mona, who stares back. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” says Mona. “Yep! Okay, just overthinking. I think I’m going to sleep now.”

He turns away and curls up into a ball. Akira watches him for a moment, thinking about dark empty rooms and notes on the fridge and how their parents would yell downstairs and never come up and check on them, and then they glance at their phone. Akechi has it worse. Tomorrow will be a rest day for the rest of the team, but Akira ought to buy some more supplies while they’ve got the time. They ought to check up on some people.

AKIRA: do u wanna come shopping w/ me tomorrow?

Sometimes when people message them late, they just wait until the morning to reply. So, Akira decides that if Akechi doesn’t reply within a minute, they’ll put the phone down and go to bed. But after a bit Akechi actually starts to type, so Akira waits patiently.

AKECHI: Fine. Where & what time?

Akira smirks to themself and hears Mona rustle the covers. They start replying, and Morgana slinks closer to look over their shoulder and say, “So we’re hanging out with him tomorrow?” He sounds less wary than before, at least. They send off the text. “…I guess it could be worse.” Mona decides. “At least he’s not Ryuji.”

“Ryuji missed you while you were gone, too,” says Akira, and Morgana grumbles. They love them both dearly, but if they start with their arguments again Akira doesn’t know what they will do. But tomorrow they won’t have to care about that, won’t have to stress about keeping the team together with only Akechi around. Tomorrow they won’t have to give a single shit.

* * *

Kurusu meets up with him in Shibuya station, simply wearing their school uniform. Akechi’s in slacks and a button-up, and he’d fought himself to leave the gloves at home today; it’s the middle of fucking September and annoyingly muggy outside, of course he doesn’t need gloves. Kurusu’s also brought the bag with Morgana in it, but that’s an idiotic reason to turn right around and storm out of the station, so Akechi doesn’t.

“Shopping, you said,” says Akechi. “Well then. Do show me what sorts of supplies your gang deems necessary.”

Akechi expected Kurusu to say something about yesterday, or something about what they want from Akechi in return for helping him, or to at the very least quiz him about Shido. Akechi expected a _plan_. Akechi expected something to change now that they know what Akechi’s really made of. Akechi expected distrust and hunger, a careful chess game of trading words and information, cards held close to their chests; everything Akechi’s been learning to win so far.

What Kurusu gives him is shopping for sweets at 777.

Akechi can’t _not_ comment on the proceedings, so he makes sure to at the very least direct Kurusu towards the cheapest and most filling snacks. Anything that lasts long and is on sale is just a smarter choice than something that is not, no matter how ‘interesting’ Kurusu argues that the product name sounds. Akechi has consciously put aside the mask of TV-Akechi, isn’t using Robin Hood- but what makes him pause as he realises it, is that he’s not using Loki _either_ , not trying to scare Kurusu away or making them confess what their motives here are.

Akechi isn’t even being what he thought was his most genuine self – spitting and bitter, the one who fantasises about giving people who annoy him psychotic breakdowns – he’s not trying to prove anything to Kurusu. He’s not doing much of anything. He is arguing about _frozen food_ in a _convenience store_.

“Do you think we should get frozen vegetables just for bruises?” Kurusu asks him.

Akechi snaps, “Why did you bring me here?”

Why the hell did Kurusu bring him here. Kurusu knows all they need to know about Akechi already, Haru fucking told them everything, why is Kurusu _here with him._

He can deal with Shido. He can deal with Shido’s sycophants and crazy secretary and the perverted old businessmen and the motherfucking yakuza and dirty cops. He knows what they want and if they ever do something unexpected he can kill them.

He is not in control here.

Kurusu looks at him placidly and says, “Are you alright, Akechi-kun?”

He’s worked tirelessly, alone, for years – and now he’s in a store with some pretty high-schooler while Shido could be doing literally _anything_ , and Akechi wouldn’t know about it. Kurusu may think this is all fun and games but Akechi _can’t drop this_ , he can’t just take breaks or socialise with whoever the fuck, his life won’t be his own until Shido’s been destroyed and it’s doubtful that even that could in any way fix his life, but that was never the point. The point was revenge. And Kurusu and their gang are pitifully _weak_.

He feels small and stupid. Why the hell did he let his guard down?

“No, I’m not,” Akechi says, bitingly. “ _Nothing_ has been fixed now that you’ve made me join your little gang, Kurusu! We barely did anything yesterday thanks to your lacklustre abilities, and my father is still alive and well while you’re doing nothing but wasting time.”

He’d like to use more cutting words, tell Kurusu _exactly_ what they’re doing wrong, exactly how pathetic they’d been yesterday, but they are in the middle of a convenience store and if anger made Akechi stupider then he’d have died years ago, so he abstains.

“Hey!” exclaims Morgana. He’d been hiding in Kurusu’s bag until now, and now he looks over their shoulder to glare at Akechi. How pitiful. “Why are you so rude? We’re doing the best we can; tell him, Akira!”

There are many ways Kurusu could react. But they just say, “I’m sorry. But I can’t ask the others to help out every day with no days to rest. And gathering resources is _something_ , at least.”

The cat just keeps staring at Akechi; so does Kurusu.

Oh god, was this outing supposed to be some kind of _peace offering_? Akechi does admittedly feel better having some sort of control over the Phantom Thieves’ supplies as opposed to having none, but that doesn’t change the fact that they’ve wasted a day they could’ve used for Palace running. Akechi still swallows back a few dozen more unkind words about the Phantom Thieves, because he does need their help, and its unnecessary to insult them so much, and- Akechi is tired. Kurusu is _trying_ to make some progress, at least, so it’ll have to be enough for today.

Yes, right, sure, of course. He carefully puts the Detective Prince mask back on, which never used to chafe before but now suddenly it does. “I see!” he says brightly, and promptly decides that the Prince act is unnecessary and stupid when Kurusu is involved, and lets his voice go flat when he says, “Sure. What now.”

Much better.

“We’re not as helpless as you think,” Kurusu says in a low voice, and pushes up their glasses.

Akechi fucking wishes they weren’t in a store, and that the cat wasn’t here. “If I’d been the one affected by the ailment,” he murmurs, leaning in closer to Kurusu. “I would’ve stabbed you through the heart. You may be the strongest of your little group, but even you wouldn’t be able to make it through even a single floor of that place alive.”

He stares into Kurusu’s eyes, and-

“So what?” exclaims Morgana, and Akechi steps back with a sneer. “We’ll get stronger! And then we’ll go back there, and we’ll steal the treasure. Phantom Thieves never fail.”

How cute, how naïve, none of this is a goddamn _game_.

Kurusu says, “Like Mona said.”

A store clerk has been pretending not to stare at them for nearly a minute now, so Akechi only says, “Fine. I’ll believe it when I see it. Where to next?”

“Next up’s the airsoft store.”

So that’s where the Phantom Thieves have been getting their weapons.

Akechi doesn’t react, because he knows Kurusu is waiting for his reaction, with that lopsided smile. “Then by all means, lead the way.”

They go to the register and Kurusu pays for their bag of snacks, the cashier looking completely uninterested by Akechi, and after that Kurusu beelines for some back-alley. Akechi doesn’t know what he expected. The alley is full of rubbish bags and cardboard boxes and out of the corner of his eye Akechi sees a blue light – Kurusu doesn’t stop walking so neither does Akechi – but he glances over his shoulder. There’s a fucking glowing cut-out of a blue door propped up there, and a little girl in a blue uniform guarding it.

Akechi’s eyes meet hers, and her eyes go huge.

They’re bright yellow.

He turns his face away and continues following Kurusu, who didn’t react in any way whatsoever. Akechi can’t be bothered to try and interact with some child, supernatural or not, and this is no time to be slacking off. He won’t say a word.

He’ll need more information before he can even attempt to use this.

* * *

Haru’s plants take the carbon dioxide she breathes and make oxygen out of it. Her care is what helps the plants survive. She’s selected every pot and placement carefully; she knows when to water them and when to abstain. Here in the garden, she can be gentle and giving and pretend that she likes the fact that no one uses this balcony but her. It’s her sanctuary; as lonely as the rest of her life. Nothing less than what she deserves.

She checks her phone before heading back inside to get ready for bed, and inexplicably, Ann has messaged her. Haru opens the chat thread and looks at the three text bubbles there for a long moment.

ANN: me & mako are gonna study together on saturday at my place at six!

ANN: please come too <3

The last bubble contains her home address, and hmm, that’s quite something, isn’t it? Haru’s a known murderer who they saw almost dismember their leader, but they don’t care. Ann and Makoto are just – normal high school girls. The only thing they have in common with Haru must be her very recent involvement in Phantom Thievery, and Haru hasn’t had friends in many years.

Other than Akechi, that is. And while he’s very dear to her, they’ve never hung out in the real world. Honestly, Haru isn’t even sure what exactly you’re supposed to do when you hang out with someone.

Ann’s texts make it sound like she genuinely wants Haru to show up, but what about Makoto? She’d sounded like she agreed with Haru in Mementos, but she has to still be suspicious of her, right? Especially after that horrible Brainwash ordeal that happened. What if Makoto doesn’t want her there? But Haru can’t very well turn down Ann’s invitation, either…

Oh, why is this so hard? To simply study with Ann and Makoto will be simple. Easy. She can do it.

HARU: Ok, I’ll come.

Tomorrow’s a school day, and the day after that, she’ll bring all the Phantom Thieves back with her into her father’s Palace. She knows what to do in the metaverse, how to act and what to say. It’s like having Milady next to her in a physical form erases all of her anxieties, and for as long as she’s in the metaverse, she doesn’t even remember to worry about word choices and propriety.

But the thought of finally infiltrating her father’s Palace still feels almost worse than the thought of being a bad guest at Ann’s house the day after that.

* * *

Various Phantom Thieves have started visiting Futaba in the evenings; mostly Yusuke when he can pay the train fare, or Ryuji and Ann who always bring snacks when they come over. Futaba sees Morgana and Akira a lot too, in the mornings when she goes to Leblanc or whenever they want to check in on her. So when they’re all at school in the days while she’s at home she’s not lonely, she’s _been_ like way fucking worse, and in actuality she’s getting a lot of things done! So, it’s cool.

But there’s only so many hours a day she can stand reading through old news articles, government documents, press releases and the like without snapping.

Finding evidence of Shido’s crimes shouldn’t be this hard, unless everything in his office is on paper only, which as an action ought to be considered a crime in and of itself. The point is this: Futaba is a pretty good hacker. Maybe even a phenomenal one. She doesn’t know, the closest thing to a competition she’s been in was taking down that knockoff Medjed. But if all Futaba can find online are Shido’s bank accounts – which isn’t _nothing_ , obviously; he’s paying for a lot of weird shit – then that won’t be enough to hurt him, especially when he’s got the police in his pocket.

He ordered her mother killed. He stole her research. So _where is it?_

Futaba spends a whole day angrily thinking about her options before trying out her Plan B: getting in contact with Shido’s hitman. It takes a while to set up the same kind of security as she’s put on the Phantom Thieves group chat, but if Akechi deigns to speak to her he better use it.

ALIBABA: download this

AKECHI: Who is this?

ALIBABA: cmon just do it

He attempts to block her again.

ALIBABA: its oracle dipshit

She waits two and a half minutes, getting fidgetier and fidgetier, but finally Akechi decides to download her program. With a feral grin she turns back to her computer and starts typing – she’s obviously not happy about needing to talk with the guy, but she _is_ happy that she managed to make contact. There’s no way she’d ever consider doing this in the flesh, but that’s not a symptom of her being a hermit, that’s a symptom of her being a normal fucking person who doesn’t want to hang out with her mom’s murderer.

AKECHI: What is it?

ALIBABA: we need to talk about ur dad

Shido was the one who actually wanted Futaba’s mom dead, even if Akechi was the one who killed her. Shido stole the research her mom poured her heart and soul into. Shido sent the men in suits with that horrible fake suicide note. And Shido must’ve ruined Akechi’s life too, if he’s that invested in destroying him.

So, Futaba and Akechi have only one thing in common: they want revenge on Shido. Is that enough for Futaba to want to see him? Hell no! She doesn’t like Haru, at all, but she dislikes Akechi so much more that in comparison she’d consider Haru a nice and friendly person. She’s not planning on forgiving Akechi like, ever. But Futaba hates Shido even more. And for the sake of avenging her mom, Futaba’s willing to work with Akechi for exactly as long as it takes to put Shido away forever.

ALIBABA: ive started digging for evidence of his crimes and i thought ud want to help

* * *

Despite Akechi and Haru meeting and working together being the fault of their fathers, Akechi has never tried to get inside of Okumura’s Palace before. Kurusu texts him the address to the Okumura Foods HQ on Friday morning, so Akechi assumes that Haru herself has been inside her father’s Palace before and simply never mentioned it. It wouldn’t be that strange. Akechi had been to Shido’s many times and never said a word.

Panther waves to Akechi as he arrives, while Skull crosses his arms and scowls. Haru smiles at him and Akechi goes to stand next to her, while Kurusu and Niijima both nod at him. Oracle glances at him once and then quickly turns away; well, she did tell him she only contacted him yesterday because she wants revenge on Shido. They’d spent nearly an hour discussing the problem until Akechi had to leave for an appointment.

“It seems everyone is here,” announces Niijima after looking at the group, and takes out her phone. “Shall we?”

The world disintegrates and the ground rearranges itself beneath their feet, until they’re standing in what looks to be a space station. Until Akechi glances behind himself and sees that the doors still lead only to the same Tokyo street that the Okumura Foods HQ inhabits. How mediocre.

“This way,” says Haru, now clad in her hat and waistcoat, and the Phantom Thieves start to follow her, Akechi taking up the rear.

The Palace is monochrome and labyrinthine, with locked doors blocking their way. Fortunately, the locks are biometric and Haru can open them with ease. All the Shadows come in the shapes of brightly coloured robots, which makes spotting them laughably simple.

But the point is not to avoid them.

Kurusu picks Skull, Panther and Fox for the front team and gets into a fight. Akechi observes. They have a decent strategy, Akechi assumes – the problem is that they’re too inexperienced, too weak. Or that they _believe_ themselves to be.

Akechi’s popularity may have taken a nosedive but he’s as strong as ever in the metaverse, which isn’t just a stroke of luck. It takes willpower. He’s nobody’s cognition and ultimately _he_ is the one who decides how fast or how strong he is. If the Phantom Thieves allow themselves to be limited by their own perceptions of their abilities, Akechi will _make_ them stop.

They win the fight. Kurusu ambushes another Shadow, which splits into three enemies, one of which manages to take out Skull’s leg. Kurusu makes Fox drag him away and calls for Niijima and Morgana. They kill the enemies and Kurusu collects the loot, then uses their grappling hook to ambush another Shadow. Akechi and Haru are never called in, for fucking obvious reasons, so they follow the group at a leisurely distance.

The Phantom Thieves get more confident as they proceed through the Palace, killing robots for key cards to unlock rooms full of more robots to kill. They get plenty of injuries too, but Kurusu and their cat quickly take care of each one, and soon they’ve gotten destroying the smaller robots down to an art. The larger bosses – the _managers_ , of course – are harder for them to deal with, however, and Akechi watches critically as one of them swats Fox into a wall so hard that when he comes back down he doesn’t even catch himself, just slumps unconscious on the floor.

Niijima’s already nursing a broken arm, and before Mona can do anything to help either one of them the Shadow nails him with a lightning bolt which makes him drop like a plush toy. The situation’s not looking good, and Kurusu can either risk it all to win the fight or-

“Queen, help Mona, we’re retreating!”

They haul Fox onto their back and runs, Niijima pulling Mona to his feet before following. A smokescreen stops the Shadow from following, and Oracle keeps watch for any more enemies as all of them run away and round a corner. The next corridor is empty, and Kurusu decides this is the place they’ll sit down to deal with their wounds in. Mona wakes Fox up while Kurusu heals Niijima’s arm, and Oracle reports that the Shadow that kicked their asses is going back to its workplace. Predictable.

Akechi scoffs and leans against a wall, crossing his arms.

-and then the overhead lights flip from white to red, and Oracle exclaims, “Oh shit, the Shadow pulled some kind of alarm!” The Thieves stir, looking up in a panic. Akechi takes a step away from the wall, and Oracle just keeps narrating, “I’m going to try to shut it off, just let me get this thing open and I’ll-“ she stops speaking as she sits down on the ground and pulls a laptop out from nowhere, flips it open and starts typing.

Haru glances at the lights and at Kurusu and the faces of the team and says, “This has never happened to me before. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’ll happen next…”

Alarms start to blare, the sound long and drawn out, echoing. The Phantom Thieves look anxiously at each other and Akechi would roll his eyes at them, except he doesn’t exactly love this progression of events either. He grabs his gun and snaps, “Stay on your guard.”

The walls, grey and nondescript, suddenly lit up with red text. INITIALISING SYSTEM HARU.

“What the hell,” says Skull distantly.

Fox, still pressing a bag of frozen peas to his head, dreamily reaches out his other hand to trace the text on the wall. Niijima stands up, a sudden movement which makes Akechi twitch and grip his gun tighter, and then she stares into one end of the corridor and says, “Is that a Shadow?”

* * *

Makoto doesn’t think it is, but if not that-

“No,” says Haru, slowly. “That’s… That’s my father’s cognition of me…?”

“What?” says Ryuji; Makoto doesn’t take her eyes off the cognition.

The cognition is taller than Haru and wearing some ridiculous black sci-fi get-up complete with a cape, but it’s carrying an axe with a huge glowing red blade and the closer it comes the more its face, objectively, resembles Haru’s. A robot wearing Haru’s face. The other Thieves start moving behind her and Haru, whispering amongst themselves, and when Haru and Akechi take up defensive positions Makoto quickly does the same.

Akira steps forward, in between Haru and Makoto, as if to face the cognition. In their hand’s a dagger.

The cognition stops a few metres in front of them, hefts its axe, and declares tonelessly, “If you are bothering my father I will eliminate you.”

Futaba quietly pipes up from the back of the group where Ann’s shielding her, “Her power level’s way higher than the Shadows on this floor, and that’s just from a preliminary scan. She’s not some miniboss, she’s – I don’t think we should fight her.”

That manager already gave them enough trouble. Makoto would prefer to heed Futaba’s advice.

“Alright,” she says, to the cognition. They can negotiate. They can deal with this. “We won’t bother your father. Will you-“

“It is too late,” interrupts the cognition. “If you interfere with my father’s business, you deserve death. If you enter this place, you deserve death. I will eliminate you.”

No matter how much you plan, you can’t be prepared enough for a Palace. There’s no reading Makoto could do that’d help them here, no amount of preparing and thinking and planning ahead, and usually she views it as a _good_ thing. This is a place where she can learn to improvise and think on her feet, a place where she’s confident and powerful and her stubbornness is only a benefit. A place where she does not have to be Makoto Niijima, only Queen.

And other times, everything goes to shit.

The cognition is _fast_ , and Akira barely has the time to dive left to avoid its first swing. Ryuji and Ann both yell, and Akechi takes a jump backwards then shoots at it. Bullets ricochet off its metal limbs, _are you kidding me_ , and Akira’s forced to scramble and duck, again, while Futaba reports the obvious fact, “She reflects gun and physical! Try magic instead – or better, let’s run!”

Akira orders half the team to begin retreating, calling for Akechi and Ann to help hold the cognition off. Makoto bets that neither curses, flames nor whichever affinity Akira will end up using would make that thing falter, but if Akira thinks they’ve got a plan, Makoto will follow it. She hurries away with the rest of the team, and in the last glance back she takes she catches Akechi being struck in the shoulder by the cognition’s glowing-hot blade, and then Akira darts forward and distracts the cognition.

A corner’s coming up. They go around it, and Makoto feels shamefully thankful that despite the cognition’s speed, it at least doesn’t seem interested in chasing down its prey.

They run through the corridor, then take another turn before finally stopping at a safe room entrance. The lights haven’t changed since the cognition showed up, and everything’s hued in an ominous crimson – but inside the safe room the distortion’s weaker and the light turns out to be normal in there. Exhausted, the team slumps into the chairs around the table, and no one moves until there’s a knock on the safe room door.

“I’ll handle it,” says Makoto, and goes to open.

It’s Akira, Ann and Akechi, and Makoto can finally breathe out. Haru, standing just behind Makoto’s shoulder, says, “Oh thank goodness! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” says Ann. “But I think Crow took a nasty hit, and-“

“Yes, yes,” growls Akechi, rudely. “How about we return to the entrance already?”

Akira pulls out their phone without a word, the team gets up, and everyone warps back to the entrance hall of the Palace. Makoto counts all team members as they appear and start to stretch or talk about what happened, and once satisfied that everyone’s safe and accounted for, Makoto joins the discussion.

“What the hell was that thing?” Ryuji exclaims, gesturing. “It was crazy strong, how’re we supposed to get past it?!”

“It must’ve been the cognition of her that Haru’s father has,” says Makoto, logically. “This is his Palace, a distorted reality which shows us how he views his business in the real world. And if Haru’s the assassin protecting his interests in reality…”

“Then of course she’d be some kinda fucking security guard in here,” concludes Futaba. “And she’s _seriously_ powerful, on the same level as that terrible cognition in my Palace was.”

They think about that in silence for a bit.

“To think,” says Fox, eventually. “That a form so much smaller could contain just as much power…”

Makoto glances at Haru, and thinks that it only makes sense. And even then, that cognition, however powerful it may be, is nothing compared to the real Haru. Makoto’s feelings are deep and complicated, but one thing she’s certain of: she has so much respect for Haru.

* * *

They start talking about Shadows, some cognition in Oracle’s Palace and so-called power levels and other bullshit, and Akechi grits his teeth. Those words mean nothing to Akechi, whose shoulder stings as if burned despite his best attempts to ignore the wound away. And Kurusu looks at Akechi with those terribly perceptive eyes and says, softly, “Let me heal you.”

“It’s nothing,” grits Akechi, but Kurusu noticing the wound makes the pain flare up so that the words come out as a hiss. Fuck cognition, fuck lightsabre axes, and especially fuck Kurusu. “Be quick about it,” he concedes, angrily. Allowing anyone to help him feels like a defeat every single fucking time.

Kurusu calls for a Persona who appears above them with a muted burst of light, winged and green-clad and with a spiked crown. They hold out a hand towards Akechi’s shoulder, fingers just barely grazing him, and looks into his eyes as they give the Persona the command. It’s horrifying. Kurusu’s eyes are shadowed by their mask but trained unerringly on Akechi’s face as the pain starts to dull and the heat of the burn starts to cool.

The pain fades completely, and Kurusu’s hand falls as the Persona gently fades out of existence. Akechi stretches out his arm, flexes, then crosses both of them and forces himself to say, “Thank you.”

He needs to remember his goddamn manners if he wants to win this.

“Anytime,” says Kurusu, unbothered. “I mean it. Since your Persona doesn’t seem to have any capacity for healing.”

“Not Loki, yes,” admits Akechi. “But I could have others with healing spells.”

Kurusu stops, and looks at him with a gaze so intense Akechi stills too. “You – have more than one Persona?” asks Kurusu. Their eyes are wide, their nonchalant smile frozen.

Didn’t Haru tell them already? Akechi thought she’d told them all everything – because he knows _Haru_ knew about Robin Hood, so she could’ve told them all about it. Akechi hasn’t been making any effort to keep it a secret, either – the Robber’s Daughter, sure, but not the plain fact that he has several Personas. As silence falls and everyone turns to look at Akechi, his face splits in a delighted grin.

“Haru didn’t say?” he asks. This is one card he didn’t intend to keep a secret, so why the hell not go ahead and flaunt it? _Yes_ , he has several Personas! He watches Kurusu, all the Thieves, as they look between him and Haru. This is just too much fun. “Since you’ve already met Loki,” Akechi says, and reaches deep within himself for that feeling of crystal-clear calm and focus like nocking an arrow- “Robin Hood!”

He bursts into being above Akechi, an illusory wind tearing at both of their capes as blue flames lick up Akechi’s body, inverting the colours of his outfit and drawing golden trimmings across his chest, braids and buttons. Akechi’s manic grin eases into a smaller smile, and he spreads his arms. Kurusu’s grey eyes are blown wide beneath their mask and fixed on him and him only.

Skull splutters. “What? What! Since _when_ -“

“There’s another one?” exclaims Mona, eyes wide.

Akechi keeps his eyes on Kurusu, who’s still watching him.

“Oh, I thought having several Personas was more common,” says Haru. “So, I didn’t think to mention it?”

“I thought I was the only one,” says Kurusu distractedly, echoing what Akechi used to think.

“It seems all of us learned something new today,” says Akechi pleasantly, revelling in the feeling of all eyes upon him. “Now, how about we return to reality before that cognition catches us?”

He’s still got a trick up his sleeve that no Thief other than Kurusu has, and now they all _know it._

* * *

Her father’s cognition of her is a puppet. Invincible, fearsome – and a robot without a will of its own. Haru has had years to come to terms with the fact that her father likely only viewed her as an asset to his company, but to have it shoved in her face like this… in front of everyone… She’s sad, of course, and worried about how they’re going to proceed in the future. But above all else, overwhelming and scorching, is her feeling of _fury_.

He really doesn’t care at all. He views her as a _security system_. Any guilt or doubts about sabotaging her own father that she may have harboured beforehand are now shattered to dust.

Maybe Milady’s been right all along. Maybe Haru should’ve just killed him as soon as Milady came to her, offering vengeance. Maybe-

“Your father’s cognition of you is stupidly strong, Haru!” exclaims Ryuji, when they’ve dropped back onto the pavement in reality, clustered together next to a parked delivery truck. “This day has been so effing weird. First that crazy cognition, and then Akechi whips out a second Persona…”

Haru always knew that Akechi had a second Persona, of course, but she feels absurdly guilty about her father’s cognition of her being such a big obstacle. Which is complete drivel, but she can’t help it.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know how we’re going to get past it, to be honest.”

“Maybe it’s like how it was with that door in my Palace,” says Futaba, forgetting her anxiety thanks to the excitement of figuring out a theory. “And if we do something about how he feels about you in reality, his Palace will change. He seems to think you’re impossible to defeat, so maybe you could… uh.” She shrinks back into Akira’s side, twisting her hands into knots.

“Oh,” says Haru. “That does make sense.” She muses for a second. “Could anyone help me break my arm?”

“Haru!” cries Makoto.

“What the _eff_ ,” exclaims Ryuji, and gestures with both hands. “No _way_ are any of us gonna do that! There’s gotta be some other way!”

Akechi pipes up. “The next time your father asks you to deal with a target,” he says, calmly, “then tell him you couldn’t do it. A failure should prove to him that you can be defeated, no?”

“And if he doesn’t ask?” Her father has had her kill only nine people, so far, and every time he’d requested a psychotic breakdown – which was a lot more often – Akechi had been the one to actually make it happen, by way of Haru asking him. Though her father doesn’t know _that_ , of course. Better to let him believe she and Shido’s hitman had exactly the same set of skills and never worked with each other, ever.

Akira says, “That’d be a problem for later, in that case. Let’s all get some rest.”

Let’s all go home and to bed, they mean. Haru fervently hopes that she doesn’t run into her father at home, because she might not be able to stop herself from saying something scathing right to his face. They had to retreat from a Palace having done barely anything, again, and her father hasn’t changed one bit.

And tomorrow, she’s invited to Ann’s place. Why does she only feel dread?

* * *

Their pathetic escape from Okumura’s Palace hardly even bothers him after having showed off Robin Hood, and Kurusu keeps watching Akechi in the real world as they all walk to the train station. Akechi notices, of course, and the self-satisfied smirk Robin put on his face takes a while to fade. Yes, Kurusu isn’t the only one with several Personas! How does that feel, hmm? Something hot and possessive in his chest makes him want Kurusu to keep their eyes on him and him only.

He feels as exhilarated as if in a fight he’s winning. He feels so light on his feet, aware of every move he makes and it’s all perfect, up until the train station when his phone vibrates with a call.

“Excuse me,” he says, and walks briskly towards a deserted corner as he pulls out his phone. It’s Shido, because obviously it would be. Akechi answers with a pleasant, “What can I do for you?”

“You can do your job, for one,” says Shido. Annoyed, but it’s not serious. “Come to my office on Monday.”

“What time?” asks Akechi.

“Why, are you busy?” Jovial tone; a threat.

“My teachers do like to keep me occupied, yes,” Akechi says, just as cheerfully. “I wouldn’t have stayed at the top of my class for long without doing some work.”

“Fine; 6 pm.” Shido always tunes him out as soon as Akechi mentions schoolwork. “Don’t be late.”

“Of course not, Shido-san,” agrees Akechi, and finally that piece of shit hangs up and Akechi can walk back to join the others. Haru glances at him and Akechi rolls his eyes; she nods and turns back to Niijima. Yes, Shido wasn’t difficult to deal with today, but having seen that cognition in Okumura’s Palace makes Akechi fucking _wish_ that Shido thought he was even half as scary as Okumura evidently thinks his daughter is.

If there’s a cognition of Akechi in Shido’s Palace, Akechi bets he’s not even strong enough to beat a Jack Frost.

-now that’s a thought.

Akechi considers this: Shido’s Palace is full of cognitions of all his associates, so why not Akechi? And Shido’s not an idiot. He knows who _really_ built him his empire these last two years. He looks down on Akechi, absolutely, but without Akechi that bastard would never have gotten _anywhere_. Why wouldn’t there be a cognition of Akechi in his Palace, serving as some kind of security system?

And why wouldn’t it be weak and pathetic.

And why shouldn’t Akechi go and kill it.


	6. masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Akechi closes the metaverse app back in Chiyoda after returning from Shido's Palace alone, he’s got a new text notification waiting on him. It’s Kurusu.

Ann’s flat would somewhat resemble Haru’s, if Haru’s father was only a manager and not the CEO, maybe. Ann apologises cheerfully for the mess, but Haru thinks that Ann’s magazines and schoolbooks and clothes and snack bags strewn about in the living room lends the flat a certain charm Haru’s own home lacks. It’s clear that someone who is not afraid of living has made this place what it is.

Makoto brought a bag full of schoolwork with her, but Ann manages to convince her to leave it on the table and come have some food before they begin. Haru trails after the both of them into the kitchen area, where Ann immediately crouches on the floor to pull out a box of cake from the freezer.

“Ann…” sighs Makoto, but Haru notes that she’s smiling. Oh.

“C’mon, Makoto,” Ann says. “This is the perfect time to eat this cake, which – just saying – has been in here since the start of summer break. My parents were supposed to stay in Japan longer, but something came up and we never ate this cake, so! Cake time.”

“A cake is best enjoyed with others,” says Haru carefully.

“Exactly!” Ann grins at her.

She seems genuinely happy to have Haru here, at least.

The cake is sweet and fluffy on the inside, and the outside has been decorated with marzipan roses. Haru carefully doesn’t think about her ancient fantasy of opening a café, or having friends over for tea, playing princess and eventually thief by herself in her father’s empty flat.

Makoto soon strikes up a conversation about school. “Perhaps we should’ve invited Ryuji. I have a feeling he’s not… been very enthusiastic about doing his homework for the summer.”

“He said he was going on a day trip with his mom,” says Ann, then closes her eyes as she takes a bite of cake. She savours it for a few seconds. “Hey,” she then says and looks at Makoto. “Don’t you have a friend of your own? That girl you went to spy on with Akira?”

“It wasn’t _spying_ ,” Makoto says immediately, flushing. “And Eiko said she’d decided to do a little homework each day of this summer, instead of leaving it all for the last week. Maybe I should’ve done the same…”

They talk about Eiko, and Ann’s friend Shiho. They talk about another girl named Hifumi, who’s apparently Akira’s shogi buddy and their new strategy consultant. They talk about going to Jinbocho and Harajuku. They talk about fashion.

Haru nods and smiles and makes agreeing ‘hmm’ sounds, and watches with quiet despair as the glass pane separating her from her peers slowly lowers across Ann’s table. Every time Makoto turns to her to ask for her opinion Haru feels the awkwardness, how the whole interaction just chafes – doesn’t Makoto feel it too? Haru’s not supposed to be here. Haru’s never connected with another girl like this, never had a real conversation with a peer. She’s an imposter at their table.

Maybe Makoto’s damaged too, Haru thinks after the fifth time. Can’t she _see_ the tension crackle across the table? Makoto doesn’t like her, doesn’t even trust her – but maybe she doesn’t trust anyone.

That would be the smart choice, after all.

And Haru knows that Makoto used to always eat alone and spend breaks alone and study after school alone, too cold too perfect too distant to connect with the students she was supposed to represent. Haru has heard and seen and been told. Makoto is intelligent and polite and has never missed a meeting in her life, much in the same way as Haru is rich and soft-spoken and would never disappoint her father. They are lonely.

But Makoto has found friends in Ann, and Eiko, and Hifumi – of course! Makoto is loyal and kind and always looks out for the well-being of the team. She’s learning about how the Shujin students really feel, and what they do in their free time, and soon enough she’ll be one of them.

Haru doesn’t deserve any of that. Haru can’t have any of that, she’s so far removed from a normal 17-year-old by now that the gap cannot close, not now and not in a year and not in ten years. She’s a serial killer, and after she puts her own father in prison the best thing she could do would be to confess and to follow him.

The Okumura family, finally receiving what they’ve _really_ earned.

Akira may be a thief, and one could call Morgana an honourable outlaw – but Haru is a true criminal. Her family has built their fortune all while ignoring the needs of their workers, her father has lied and cheated for the sake of success, and Haru’s stolen what can never be taken back. She’s robbed people of their lives, and families of their futures. She’s the criminal none of the businessmen want to admit exists, she’s the criminal in every children’s story.

She’s lonely, and trapped, and a murderer, and it’s all thanks to herself.

Every life is valuable and irreplaceable, but if someone were to try murdering her father, or Haru herself, then wouldn’t that be nothing less than just?

She realises, then, that the conversation has stopped.

Ann and Makoto are looking at her. Haru quickly pulls her expression together and says, “Oh, is it time to do our homework now?” she sounds meek and confused and hates herself just a bit more.

“Uh...” Ann looks at Makoto. “I mean, Makoto probably wants us to study. But if you’re not feeling up for it, there’s this movie I’ve been meaning to watch for a while now…”

Makoto watches Haru. She probably thinks that she’s stupid in addition to untrustworthy, now. And what Haru says next is going to make Makoto think she’s lazy, too, but Haru really can’t imagine trying to solve a math problem tonight, so she says, “Actually, a movie sounds lovely.”

“Great!” says Ann. “I’ll start setting it up.”

Makoto says nothing.

* * *

Akechi is fond of bouldering, and in the metaverse he has five-centimetre claws; getting around Shido’s cruise ship’s never really been that difficult for him. He’s spent the whole day thinking about cognitions, what Shido thinks of him, and about how the cruise ship is structured. There is of course always the chance that he might be wrong, in which case this will be a waste of time.

Or he’s right and doing this could actually _affect_ something in this goddamn Palace.

If there’s a cognition of himself aboard this ship, Akechi will kill him. Seeing the cognitive Haru has finally narrowed down all of his attention to achieving just one thing, given him the same single-minded determination that made him survive this far – he’s finally become a professional again.

He avoids the entertainment decks with all the traps entirely by climbing the hull of the ship, and gets back inside by using a cabin balcony. In the cabin’s a Shadow, and Akechi kills it before it can even think to scream. The corridors outside are infested with Shadows, so Akechi pries the lid off a vent and heads further down in the ship through its innards.

Staff rooms. Storage rooms. He kills another Shadow carrying a stack of boxes, and all of the boxes burst into smoke and become enemies too. Luckily, they’re weak to ice and die quietly.

More corridors. All the walls are grey now and the lighting’s shitty. He goes down a maintenance stair and runs into a cognition smoking next to an inconspicuous grey door, and the cognition squints at him and says, “Akechi? I thought you’d already gone inside.”

“Neither of us would like it if I arrived late, now would we?” says Akechi pleasantly, and the cognition gestures at the door and heads up the stairs.

The door’s unlocked. Akechi opens it soundlessly and steps out into what seems to be the car deck of the ship. It’s smaller than he expected, but still cavernous. It’s dark and there are pillars blocking his sight spread out throughout the whole hall, supporting the low-hanging ceiling. Sounds carry far, and he follows the sound of a conversation for nearly five minutes until finally he’s got eyes on the speakers.

Some cognitions in suits spread out in a loose circle, some of them sitting on or leaning against cars, having some kind of bullshit meeting. None of them are even real, what’s the fucking point of this? They’re all men who look like yakuza, except for one scrawny-looking cognition Akechi doesn’t have to look at for long to recognise as himself. He’s in school uniform, complete with gloves and a briefcase standing by his feet.

Akechi watches them for some time, thinking of nothing at all.

Eventually their ‘meeting’ seems to wrap up, and the yakuza start to get up and head towards some kind of exit. The cognitive Akechi stays behind to talk to one of the cognitions, leaning against a red car. None of the words register to Akechi but he can see the cognition make a few gestures, eyes catching on the black gloves, on the exact pose and manners of the Detective Prince. It’s like watching an interview.

It’s making Akechi more furious than he could have ever imagined. Does Shido have that shit _memorised_? Does Shido fucking think he’s got him all figured out and under his heel?

It’s barely even a decision to finally step out of the darkness behind the cars and put a bullet through the yakuza goon’s head, then turn to aim his gun at himself. How about that, you fucking piece of shit? Is _that_ what Shido predicted? Loki’s practically screaming to be let out, but when the cognition’s own gun trains on him the name that comes out is Ronja’s.

The cognition shoots, and it ricochets.

_Ronja reflects gun._

It takes the both of them nearly three whole seconds to react, but this time Akechi’s faster. His aim is perfect and the shot hits the cognition right in the chest, and he staggers and falls. He presses a hand to his chest and opens his mouth, and Akechi puts another bullet through his head before he can speak.

The cognition tips to the side. Red starts to spread on the floor.

Is that it?

Akechi, gun trained on the cognition, pokes him in the back with his boot. He landed on his face. His neatly brushed hair is getting soaked in blood. His school uniform’s ruined.

This is what Akechi’s corpse would look like. And yes, _yes_ , of course Akechi’s thought about it! Who hasn’t? He’s killed people, he killed Isshiki Wakaba, the law of the world according to the blind goddess of justice is an eye for an eye and honestly – really truly – who would care. His adoring fans and the masses of Tokyo who hate him for his critique of the beloved Phantom Thieves, his dead mother, his shithead father, his teachers and his co-workers – meaningless. If he died, the announcement would grace the news for hardly a week and then everything would go back to how it was before.

Which is precisely why Akechi refuses to die.

He will help Haru and repay his debt to Kurusu and the goddamn Phantom Thieves if it kills him.

The hall is dark and quiet, and when Akechi turns away from the corpses and holsters his gun he realises that Ronja’s still just floating there. “What?” he says, brusque. The sound echoes and he stifles a flinch.

 _Don’t give up,_ says the nagging voice inside his head. _It’s been a long journey, but you cannot falter! There are people who would help you. You should talk to them._

Akechi knows who she means and grits his teeth. Objectively, this is a win. He has three Personas, he’s got a new plan, he’s got people who are actually offering him assistance out of the goodness of their sweet little bleeding hearts, and he just killed a mindless doppelgänger of himself and thus removed an obstacle from his path. So why does he feel so FUCKING AWFUL ALL THE TIME?

Yes, he wants to see Haru and Kurusu and the stupid fucking Phantom Thieves! He _hates_ himself. Everything hurts and he banishes Ronja back to the depths of his psyche and starts to walk numbly towards an exit to this car cave. Any exit.

* * *

Makoto usually feels as if she’s pretty good at conversing, but now a pit of dread has opened in her as she’s started considering that _maybe_ she’s actually only good at leading conversations where she wants them to go, and in actuality she’s terrible at listening to people and feeling the natural flow of a conversation. Haru had looked so uncomfortable every time she’d spoken to her, and then she’d started frowning and hadn’t responded to what Makoto said. Makoto must’ve upset her, somehow, but she can’t think of how, or when. She’s so bad at decoding nonverbal cues, and in the real world Haru is so refined and soft-spoken – anything Makoto’s said to her might’ve been offensive.

Ann had cheered Haru up, at least, and now they’re all watching a movie as Makoto silently wages war with herself. If only she knew how to comfort people properly. Sae is just as bad as Makoto, but their father had always had a kind word to say, with that humbling honesty Makoto just can’t replicate. What’s the point in academia when she can hardly speak to a girl her own age? Once again, all her faults stare her right in the face.

Eventually, the credits roll. Ann stretches and yawns. “Does anyone want tea? I can make some and then we can look at the, uh… homework.”

They’ve spent three hours just hanging out. Someone would undoubtedly be horrified if they knew this, but Makoto can’t make herself care.

“I thought you said this movie has a good sequel, yes?” Makoto says.

“Yeah,” Ann says. “You can borrow my copy, in case you… wait.” She stares at Makoto. “Did you just _suggest_ we slack off and watch the sequel?”

“I doubt we’d get any studying done tonight, regardless,” says Makoto. “And wasn’t this… nice?”

“You’re right!” Ann says. “Wow. Alright. I’ll put the movie on, and – does anyone still want tea?”

“Um, if you don’t mind making some?” says Haru. Makoto’s eyes dart to her at once, and Haru meets her eyes with a startled look. A second passes.

“Sure thing!” says Ann and jumps up from the sofa. “It’ll just take a minute.”

Ann makes tea. Makoto makes a plan. She failed to hold a decent conversation with Haru earlier – well, then she’ll just have to do better in the future! She needs to stop overthinking and simply… go with the flow. Ann makes it look so easy, so Makoto must be able to learn how to as well, surely? If Haru speaks to her again this evening, then Makoto will be ready to… drop all strategies and simply say what feels right. Yes.

Haru thanks Ann quietly for the tea, and Makoto gives her thanks as well. The tea is very sweet, of course, but it’s not bad. Ann starts the movie and drapes a blanket across their shared sofa, and then she starts explaining some bit of trivia about one of the actresses. Makoto nods along and sips from her tea.

Eventually, Makoto’s tea is gone, and Ann has fallen asleep. She can’t even see a clock from her seat, but it must be getting pretty late.

Softly, Haru speaks up. “Can I ask you something? I know I haven’t made myself very approachable, but… would you at least listen?”

“Of course!” Makoto says quickly. “I know I’m not very approachable either – most people would say I’m a robot, in fact, so if I’ve made it seem as if I don’t like you, I must apologise.”

“No, no, that’s fine!” says Haru quickly, and have they become trapped in some agonising dance of politeness? “I’ve given you no reason to trust me, much less like me! It’s perfectly fine.”

“No!” exclaims Makoto, then lowers her voice when she remembers that Ann is asleep in the seat between them. “I do trust you. And – like you. I admit that I didn’t, at first… but you’ve more than proven you’re on our side now.”

Haru huffs a short laugh. “Really? I almost dismembered Akira just a few days ago.”

“You were Brainwashed,” argues Makoto, struggling to keep her voice both firm and quiet. “It’s happened to me too; I nearly took out Ann’s eye once, and she doesn’t blame me for it.” Of course she doesn’t, sleeping peacefully in between them this very moment. “We all want to help you, Haru-chan.”

“Why?” it’s quiet as a whisper, but the inquiry is honest.

Because that’s what the Phantom Thieves _do_. More often than not, adults will do nothing to help, or even hand down their responsibilities to teenagers – and the Phantom Thieves have the power to fight against that. It may be unconventional, and more hands-on than anything else Makoto has ever worked for, but if they can help others, inspire others… Makoto says, “Initially I didn’t trust you, and I didn’t really want to help you. But that was _wrong_ of me.” There, she said it. “You were forced into all this, weren’t you? Adults were just toying with you, like they did with all of us. You deserve our help just as much as Futaba did, as I did.”

Haru is quiet for a moment. “I don’t think I strictly speaking deserve to _have_ any of what I have,” she says eventually. “If we change my father’s heart and he confesses, he might be killed… but why do I fight to prevent this? He’s a horrible man. I’ve robbed others of their families so why should I get to keep mine…?”

Makoto doesn’t know how to answer that.

Haru sighs. “I suppose I should worry about Akechi-san first. If we deal with his father, then at least his life should improve. Not that that does anything to help the ones I’ve killed.”

“Focus on the present,” says Makoto, and finally finds something to say. “If you think Akechi-kun deserves help, then so do you, Haru-chan.”

Haru goes quiet, at that.

On Ann’s TV, the credits of the movie start to roll. Ann stirs, then burrows in closer to Makoto’s shoulder. Haru’s eyes snap to her. “This was very nice,” she says softly. “Give my thanks to Ann-chan when she wakes up. I must take my leave.”

“You’re leaving?” asks Makoto, and wants so badly to stand up when Haru does.

“I’ll see you at school on Monday,” she says, bows, and heads for the foyer.

* * *

When he closes the metaverse app back in Chiyoda, he’s got a new text notification waiting on him. It’s Kurusu.

Some bullshit fucking dream saddled him with Ronja and killing himself turned out to be the very definition of anticlimactic; of course Shido thinks he’s easy to kill, why wouldn’t he, and Akechi is almost shaking for no reason at all. He hates Ronja. His chest is a gaping hole. He’s done so much and killed so many and despite that he looks at Kurusu’s name and can’t stop himself from thinking about them, imaging what it’d be like to be next to them right now, somewhere nice. Somewhere private where no one could see his face.

He opens the text.

KURUSU: hey are u busy or do u wanna head to jazz jin or something?

AKECHI: Sure.

He musters up some more effort, tearing it out of himself.

AKECHI: Let’s meet there, shall we?

It’s starting to get late, but Kurusu replies at once anyway, so Akechi heads for the train station. The noise of Tokyo is calming in its familiarity and soon his breaths come out perfectly even again, his hands loose at his sides. That’s right. This is the real world, and Robin Hood’s calm resolve will guide his steps.

Kurusu is waiting outside the building, and Morgana is nowhere to be seen. Akechi glances at the sign listing the menu and says, “No live singer tonight, but that cocktail doesn’t sound completely terrible. By all means, lead the way.”

Kurusu chuckles and steps inside, and Akechi follows them as they go to pick out a table. He sits down, and Kurusu says, “I’ll go order,” and leaves, and Akechi clasps his hands on the table. He’s not wearing his gloves, and the surface of the table feels cool and plastic. They’re playing some schmaltzy ballad on low volume, and if Akechi wanted to he could pick out what the couple at the table closest to his are saying. He lets them be.

Kurusu returns, setting down a foamy pink drink topped with sprinkles in front of Akechi. They take the seat across from him and for a long moment they both sit there silently and soak in the atmosphere. Akechi appreciates this kind of muted sparse lighting a lot more when he doesn’t have to fight in it, and the drink tastes a lot less horrendously than the heart-shaped sprinkles would have you believing.

“Thank you,” Akechi finds himself saying. The atmosphere of this club is such a double-edged sword; relaxing makes you lower your guard, too. Akechi would almost be afraid of what might spill over his lips, if it weren’t for Robin’s calm. “For inviting me here, I mean. I wouldn’t have thought to come here by myself tonight.”

“It’s always nice to see you,” answers Kurusu easily. Isn’t it amazing how some people can just say anything.

Akechi would love to believe that they are being genuine, but he’s quite literally not capable of that. Oh, Kurusu might think it’s nice to be able to check up on him so that they can confirm Akechi hasn’t kicked the bucket nor murdered anyone today, but that’s it – it can’t be anything else. Akechi owes Kurusu a debt, doesn’t he? That’s all this is. Nothing else. Except for how much Akechi’s watched the asshole, seen their idiot bleeding heart up close – for fuck’s sake, they got arrested over trying to help some woman, they’ve been in Tokyo six months and already have a circle of friends, they’re just so infuriating.

Akechi feels ravenous just thinking about it.

“Sometimes I wish I had what you have,” Akechi tells them with a cute insincere little laugh.

Kurusu takes a sip of their drink, then says, “I thought you were the kind to always go after what you want.”

Akechi scoffs. “When I’m able to achieve my goals, I proceed to do so, yes.”

“And if it’s not a ‘goal’? If it’s something smaller, personal? Just for you?”

Where the hell is Kurusu going with this? Something tense and electric has chased away the lazy atmosphere that permeates the jazz club; it’s like every Persona in his head is waiting for something to snap.

Akechi says, “I may take what I want, yes, but I want nothing.”

“Is that so?” says Kurusu, leans closer over the table. Their smirk is lazy, indulgent. “I think you’re lying, Mr Detective.”

Of fucking course he’s lying. That’s the whole _point_ of his job, his perfect grades and perfect look – people have to want him, envy him, think he’s better than him when the truth is that he’s got _nothing_ he wants. He wants so much that his desire’s almost bigger than his rage; he wants ferociously like Loki and he longs like Robin Hood and his new stupid fucking Persona has only made it all so much _worse_. Yes, he wants friends and people who’d care about him!

It feels like his heart is pumping magma instead of blood.

“And if I am?” he says, the teeth in his smile grit so hard his jaw aches. “You don’t know me, and you never will.”

Kurusu takes one of Akechi’s hands lying on the table, and his pulse jumps. He can’t remember the last time he simply _let_ someone touch him without a plan or it being a requirement, and Kurusu looks him right in the eye and murmurs, “Then I’ll keep trying until I do.” They lift his unresisting hand up and kisses his palm. It has to be the most tender gesture anyone’s showed him since his mother’s death. “Just you wait.”

They’re so sweet, they’re so annoying, infuriating, righteous – Akechi can’t pin them down and he’s hated that for months-

Now he gets it.

 _This_ is what Kurusu was getting at? This is what Kurusu was talking about, this is what Akechi’s entire body is shaking over – _this?_ Simple attraction? But Kurusu’s too noble for that, this has to be a whole crush on their end, how naïve, how sweet, why does it hurt so badly to know this. He must be wrong.

He’s going to say something horrible. He’s going to do something horrible. He feels awful.

“Is this relationship transactional or _not_?” hisses Akechi, and yanks his hand back. His skin feels too sensitive; he regrets it. “What the hell do you want from me? You’re just helping me get even with my piece of shit father because he’s a threat to you, doing me a _favour_. You don’t care. You don’t give a shit about me!”

It takes a moment for Kurusu to even react in any way beyond flinching back. Their face sobered up in an instant, and they open their mouth as if to say something, then closes it again.

 _They’ve got nothing to say_ , hisses Loki, and he wants to destroy and destroy.

Kurusu holds up a hand, takes a deep breath, and struggles to say anything. Akechi doesn’t know why he’s still waiting, but Kurusu pulls out their phone and writes something and then – hands the phone to Akechi. Who eventually takes it out of morbid curiosity, and casts a disdainful glance at the notes app that’s open.

_sorry_

_but ure wrong_

_i’m helping u because i want to help u, like haru wants to help u. i’d help u no matter what. u deserved so much better_

Akechi looks at the words, at then at Kurusu. A hand’s twisting anxiously in their hair.

Everything feels wrong and bad and foreign.

“ _And_ you’re helping me because you think I’m attractive,” Akechi says, voice low.

Kurusu holds out their hand, and Akechi gives the phone. A minute later they give it back again, and Akechi only reads the sentence _i won’t ever touch u again_ , before looking up and staring at Kurusu. And they look genuinely chastised and like they’re going to just give up, and that’s _not_ what Akechi wants, he realises it now. He’s been watching Kurusu for months, the way they move in the metaverse and how their team trusts them to call out orders and how they always pull their teammates back to their feet and heal them, how they dance around Shadows – just another of Akechi’s desires. Yes, he’s attracted to Kurusu, too.

If he can have Kurusu he _wants_ them.

“I don’t mind,” Akechi tells them. His Personas are watching so attentively it feels like ants are crawling over him. He puts a hand over Kurusu’s on the table, making it look casual, and Kurusu stares at him. “I’m… sorry I yelled.”

He wouldn’t have done it if he’d known Kurusu would become _this_ distressed, horrified and mute. That’s no look for his equal.

He waits while Kurusu looks away, takes a deep breath, clears their throat and says softly, “It’s fine… You don’t believe what you said, right?”

This conversation has evolved so far from what Akechi thought it’d become, what he thought he’d be able to control. He allows, “I believe you want to help me.” They’ve been trying, they and Haru, which is more than anyone else has done. Their hands are still touching. “Say, what do you think of me, Kurusu? If you say you want to help me, surely you must have a lot of… thoughts.”

“I hate this system, I’d want to help you no matter what,” repeats Kurusu, voice slowly growing steadier and more confident again. They’re looking at him, his face, like they’re searching for something. Akechi keeps his breathing nice and even. “You’re the only one I know of with the same power as I have. I like hanging out with you-“

“What do you like about me? Why?” He genuinely can’t imagine what, and – if he can get Kurusu to tell him honestly what they think of him…

Kurusu isn’t as tense anymore – funny, because Akechi hasn’t relaxed in any way whatsoever. They lean a little closer and says, “You’re brutally honest. You’re smart and pretty. The way you fight in that other world is _mesmerising_.” They pull the hand beneath Akechi’s away, only to take his hand in their own instead. It’s warm. “You fascinate me.”

Akechi asks, trying to sound above it all instead of pathetically overinvested, “You like me? Like _this_?”

“Yes. Of course.” No hesitation. They cock their head, bat their lashes, shameless apart from the flush on their cheeks. “And I absolutely wouldn’t say no to making out right now.”

_Am I special am I good look at me._

He could lean forward and put his mouth on Kurusu’s right now. His heart is racing, Loki demanding he reach out and _take it._

But good things don’t happen to Akechi.

Didn’t he use to tell himself he needed no one, wanted no one? He’s heartless. He was cruel to Kurusu just a minute ago. He killed people – cognitions, but they looked real enough – just hours ago, watched a copy of himself slowly bleed out in front of him. Like his mother.

Good things don’t happen to Akechi.

“No,” says Akechi, and claws the last of his composure and self-control together. He hates doing it, hates reining himself in. but he’s very good at it. He watches as Kurusu’s expression goes blank. “My life isn’t my own. It’s not safe for me to pursue _anyone_ right now, much less you. All I care about at the moment is dealing with my father.”

Kurusu is quiet, then nods, and lets go of his hand.

How easy.

“Your team needs to get stronger,” says Akechi, and then he gets up from the table before he can have second thoughts. “Call me if there’s an infiltration.” He starts to make his way back to the entrance, passing the bar on the way. Muhen looks at him and raises an eyebrow; Akechi just shakes his head.

That went well, didn’t it. Better than expected. Of course he didn’t get what he wants, because he can’t, but neither did he destroy Kurusu for offering. He didn’t leave a body behind.

It’s the shittiest, most low-hanging achievement imaginable, but some part of Akechi feels satisfied.

* * *

After leaving Ann’s flat Haru doesn’t go home. She goes to Mementos.

The walls whimper and breathe in wet rasps, the tunnels worm around and shift like snakes or intestines, and it’s always pitch dark. If her rooftop garden is her first haven, this is her second.

She doesn’t want her father dead. She just wishes her entire life would stop revolving around that horrible, _selfish_ man who’s never even thought about what he’s making her do. She wants no one to ever look at her again and think of her as the Okumura heiress, she wants to never live in her father’s house again, she wants her father to _pay_. She wants to turn Milady on him and make him see _what he’s done._

She wants him to suffer.

She thinks she’s entitled that thought, if nothing else. (But Makoto said she deserves their help. And it’s not that Haru doesn’t _believe_ her, if she thinks about it calmly. But she’s not calm now)

If Haru went home, she’d have to be quiet, and stay in her room or on the rooftop, and she’d hate it if any servant saw her. She absolutely doesn’t want to risk running into her father. And she doesn’t want to even think about behaving civilly, and calmly, when instead she could be down here ripping Shadows apart with Milady. Just another Saturday night in Mementos, training to keep her skills sharp.

Shadows split like overripe fruits beneath her axe, liquid darkness spraying. Milady doesn’t say a word but she’s just behind Haru’s shoulder, delighted. She smells like perfume, flowers; never blood. Never fucking blood or grime or anything that could stain the mask, of course, because Haru’s a masterpiece, and if the Shadows want to beg for their lives then why shouldn’t she indulge them?

Time passes. Haru yells battle cries into the void, threatens Shadows into handing over items before slaughtering them.

No one can hear, after all.

Until Milady whispers of a guest arriving, and Haru knows Akechi is here. She didn’t go farther down than Aiyatsbus. It’s a Saturday. Of course she should’ve known Akechi would show up, but somehow, she managed to forget.

No matter.

She thunks the blade of her axe into the ground and folds her hands on top of the hilt, waiting. Akechi surfaces from the darkness silently, wearing his white outfit, and the two of them lock eyes. “Taking a shortcut home, as well?” he asks, and comes closer.

So that’s the only reason he’s here. Haru admits, “No. I just wanted to come here.”

“One of those days, is it,” says Akechi. Weary. Polite. Haru’s still angry, but nevertheless, Haru lifts her axe and walks along with Akechi back to the platform. Milady, as always more present in the metaverse than in reality, is silent. They sit down at a bench at the station, Haru first, and Akechi doesn’t protest. Akechi hasn’t said much at all, in fact. Maybe he’s feeling out of sorts tonight, too.

But then he turns to her with sharp eyes and says, “What happened?”

How perceptive. “I went to Panther’s home,” says Haru. Akechi would take her every secret to the grave. If Haru wants to talk to anyone, it’ll always be Akechi.

Haru still can’t make the words come.

“It was nice,” she says instead. “We ate cake. We watched a movie.” She pauses. “Queen was there, too.”

“And?”

Akechi’s challenging her. It’s a form of affection. They’ve never gotten to hang out in the real world and sometimes Haru doubts whether she really knows Akechi at all, but at least she knows this one thing. If anyone would understand this fury, this regret and hate it’s Akechi. Haru can’t talk back to her father, yell at him, but she _can_ speak to Akechi. So she makes a decision.

“And I want to be their friend so badly, but I don’t _deserve_ it. My father’s controlling my whole life. I’ll never be free of what he made me do.” She hisses, “I have nothing in common with Queen and Panther, and I want Queen but my father would never let me. I hate him.”

It feels like explosions should go off, like her father ought to materialise in front of them and threaten to lock her up somewhere. But nothing happens. She spoke of that huge momentous feeling that’s been clawing at her insides ever since she stepped out of the metaverse last time, the first time ever, told it to Akechi so that there’s proof she did it, and… she feels almost better now.

She hates him, and she _will_ take his heart.

A beat passes.

“I don’t know what I’m doing with the Phantom Thieves. I don’t belong. I won’t leave them unless they make me, but… I hurt them while Brainwashed, and my father’s cognition of me…”

“Is nothing more than that man’s cognition of you,” says Akechi coolly, rationally. “If anything, your father seems to be afraid of you. I think that’s quite an accomplishment.”

Haru doesn’t believe it. She asks, “Well then, is there a cognition of _you_ in Shido’s Palace?”

“Not as far as I know,” says Akechi, and smiles sunnily, and quite abruptly puts his head in his hands.

Haru puts a careful hand on his shoulder. “Akechi-san?”

There’s a long moment, and then he says, “I think this has gone on for long enough. You can call me Goro. If you want.”

* * *

_There you go!_ echoes Ronja’s voice.

Akechi is a name he took on after his mother’s death. He _made_ Akechi his name. Goro is the gift from his mother he’s been hoarding to himself for years.

Ah, but the real issue here isn’t this one intimacy, nor what transpired between him and Kurusu. He can admit he wants affection, fine – but that’s not helpful in any way whatsoever, now _is_ it, Ronja? Shido’s still alive and working hard to ruin people’s lives, and Goro went to his Palace today only to – what, kill himself? It was a stupidly risky move, agrees Robin. What’s done is done is done and can’t be undone.

Honestly, right now the best thing Goro could do would be to head home and sleep. He feels strangely hollow, and raw and stupid, as if he’s revealed far too much. He supposes he has.

“Goro,” says Haru. Goro doesn’t trust a single person, but he trusts her. He has no choice but to trust her. She got him into this fucking mess because she was concerned about him dying, which he can admit wasn’t a completely baseless concern, since at some point he must’ve lost his edge and let Shido get too powerful. It wasn’t like he was consciously aiming for a murder-suicide. The point being, that for some godforsaken reason, Haru cares about him.

“Haru,” says Goro. “The Phantom Thieves should count themselves lucky you even decided to approach them. You always stay true to yourself and your heart’s unbreakable. You’re the only person I trust.”

Goro’s a fucking idiot and Haru was always the one and only good thing about being the Black Mask. So the Phantom Thieves better treat her like a fucking princess now that they’ve joined their team, because Haru never deserved to have a shitbag father like Okumura Kunikazu.

“Goro…” says Haru, and then a fire lights in her eyes. “The same is true for you as well! No matter what others think of you, or what we may find in your father’s Palace, you’re strong and courageous and I’m honoured to have you as my friend.”

Goro will carve those words into his brain. She takes his hands in hers, and abruptly Goro feels glad that his white gloves are simply made of fabric and not hard metal. He squeezes her hands back.

“We _will_ take your father’s heart,” Haru vows.

“And your father’s, as well,” promises Goro darkly. They’ve functionally already sworn this oath, and there has never been any going back for either of them, so the way time seems to freeze around them is completely unwarranted. Everything stills; it’s like Goro can’t even move. Can’t look away from Haru’s face nor pull his hands back, and he’s instantly furious-

-and then two fucking voices start speaking on top of each other in Goro’s head. Ronja’s high voice says _your first true friend_ , and a booming man’s voice interrupts with _this is the beginning of a contract._

_With whom you’ve sworn an oath-_

_That which will seal your fate-_

Ronja’s voice grows louder. _You must never forsake her! You shall fight together as equals-_

But the man’s voice becomes louder too, as if trying to drown Ronja out, and he orders, _this bond is power, and if you use her right-_

Ronja’s voice grows to a scream, _and only trust will save you! Sharing one vision, the Empress will guide you to emancipation!_

Goro hisses and claws at his head, and _now_ he suddenly can move. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth, furiously waiting out the worst of the headache before jerking back upright. Haru’s staring at him, and Goro demands, “Did you hear that?”

“What?” asks Haru. “Are you all right, Goro?”

His own Persona is toying with him, trying to tell him something. His own Persona called Haru an empress, and told him to never abandon her – as if – but what the hell was that other voice supposed to be? Loki doesn’t sound like that.

“It was nothing,” Goro says, resolving to forget about it. He has far too many things to do to research this thing any more now. He can’t afford to obsess over his Persona’s cryptic bullshit speeches. “But it’s getting quite late. We should depart.”

“I know,” says Haru, and looks at him. And then Haru carefully draws him into a hug. Goro doesn’t trust enough to allow himself to be held by _anyone_ , but for Haru’s sake he can pretend. Stiffly he lifts an arm to wind around her back, and Haru doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to hold him closer. They just sit there, touching each other, and it’s not the worst thing Goro’s ever experienced. It’s quite good, actually, if he’s to be honest with himself.

(which Ronja, of course, wants him to be)

Eventually Haru withdraws, and Goro leans back and smooths down his coat. They pick up their weapons, and head for the escalators, and they tell each other goodbye and all those things they’ve always done, and then Haru walks to the other end of the platform and pulls out her phone. As a precaution they never leave Mementos together. By now it’s a habit.

Haru dematerialises, and Goro considers how much he’s been touched today. He used to violently hate the thought of it – or well, he certainly used to _tell_ himself that, particularly after he first began working as a hitman, because much like his blood-soaked career path his isolation was his own choice and entirely his own fault, chosen for good reason, and impossible to change or turn back from. He couldn’t have touches so he absolutely didn’t _want_ touches, either, and after all the fucking violence he’d rather be without, anyway. That’s what he told himself.

Loki makes his desires all-consuming and obsessive, Robin gives him the patience to pursue them till the end of time, and Ronja calls bullshit on all his lies and forces him to see what he really wants.

He’s seen. He’s realised. He always fucking knew.

Today’s been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idc that cruise ships usually don’t have car decks; Shido’s Palace has one now


	7. animal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Put the gun down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's commented/favourited/followed this fic! your support means a lot <3  
> unfortunately, the next chapter is not written yet, and it might take a while for me to finish this story. But in the meantime, enjoy this update :D

Haru spends the Sunday in her garden, reflecting upon her choices so far, and everything Makoto and Goro said to her. The plants are patient and thrive in her care, and a few hours of moving plants from smaller to bigger pots, cutting and watering and planting new seedlings calms her enough for her to put on the politely disinterested Okumura heiress mask. Which is perfect, because in the afternoon her father steps out onto the balcony.

“I thought it was flowers you were tending to,” he says, and stands there in the doorway.

Haru stands up and clasps her dirt-stained hands together. “I find vegetables to be more challenging to grow,” she says. “And the results are so tasty, too.”

Her father walks forward, stops, and looks at a box of tomato plants. They’re a fresh lively green and Haru has the sudden and absurd thought that if her father touches any of her plants she’s going to hit him over the head with a spade.

“Have you been doing well in school?” asks father.

“My grades remain above the average,” answers Haru.

“And what of your social life?” he says, looking at her. “Are there any friends I should know about? Any clubs?”

“Only the gardening club,” says Haru pleasantly. Her expression is calm and open and she does not long to flee. More than anything, she’s angry. She reminds herself of this. The only feeling she has in regard to her father is fury. “I have been considering joining the student council, but I’m afraid that I’m too far into my third year for that to be a possibility.”

“That’s a shame,” says her father.

“Yes,” agrees Haru. “Was there anything you needed?”

“Okumura Foods is growing every day.” He turns his back to the plants. “Expansion overseas is going well, and we dominate the fast-food industry in Japan. Soon nothing will stand in our way, Haru. When I ascend to the political world, I’d like for you to take over company matters as the CEO. You’ve more than earned the title. I’ll begin schooling you for the position next month.”

Haru doesn’t say anything for many seconds, as she desperately tries to figure out what reaction her father wants from her, but the answer is obvious. She bows her head and says, “Yes, father. I’d be honoured.”

 _You’ve more than earned the title_ – by _what_? He cannot seriously mean the assassinations. He _cannot_ seriously be this cold, this heartless, this awful, this utterly undeserving of being called a human being as to think Haru killed those people only in order to become CEO of Okumura Foods. She’d rather burn the company to the ground. She’d rather-

She makes the mistake of meeting her father’s eye while the acid of everything she can’t say bubbles on her tongue and he takes a step back at whatever he sees in her eyes. Quickly, Haru erases her own expression. “Is that all?” she says frigidly.

“Yes,” her father says, and slowly, turns around and heads back inside.

And Haru remembers what Goro said. That her father more likely than not is afraid of her. Because her father has no dirty cops of his own, no yakuza connections. Her father is afraid of her.

He didn’t say he wants to marry her off. He said he wants to make her _CEO_.

Nothing could give her more power than if her father’s afraid of her.

She’s wretched, she’s a murderer, but finally she’s out of danger – for now. She needs to help Goro, she needs to help the Phantom Thieves, she needs to go after Shido with everything she has as long as her father isn’t thinking about making her do anything or sell her off. And she needs to keep this quiet, needs to act as if she doesn’t know about the power she now has – lest her father deem her too dangerous to keep.

But the thought of holding some power over her father’s head is still enough for her to decide that she’s going to do some things that _she wants_ to do. As a treat to herself.

So on Monday, Haru directs her driver towards a confectionary boutique before heading for Shujin. She runs into Ann in the corridors before their first lesson and pulls her aside to present her with an exquisitely wrapped box of Belgian pralines. “As an apology,” Haru explains. “For running out on you so rudely last Saturday!”

“Oh my gosh,” says Ann, carefully taking the box. “You really didn’t need to, Haru! This is so sweet of you. Thank you.”

Haru beams at her, then hurries onward to her first lesson of the day. She takes notes and waits through the lessons for lunch break, sending a message for Makoto to meet her on the roof. When the bell rings she quickly makes her way up the stairs, and so, when Makoto finally steps out on the school roof, Haru’s already waiting with the chocolate box in hand. Unlike Ann’s, this one is heart shaped.

“Mako-chan,” Haru says, and takes a step forward. Makoto puts her bag down on a table, then turns toward her – and Haru holds out the box for her. Haru loves giving presents, because Haru loves seeing people smile. Maybe it’s a bit manipulative of her, considering her enormous wealth, but seeing as her worst crime is multiple counts of murder Haru thinks that buying a few expensive presents for her friends doesn’t count as anything bad. And Makoto _deserves_ nice things. “These are for you,” Haru says, and hands her the box.

“I…” Makoto slowly takes the box. Her cheeks, ears and nose are rapidly darkening with a blush. “Oh, um…” she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thank you so much. But if you don’t mind me asking, what are these for?”

“They’re a gift,” Haru says. “To let you know how much I appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me. And I’ve always wanted to give a lady chocolate.” She smiles at Makoto.

Everything she said is true, of course, and compared to everything else she has done it’d be weird for her to be embarrassed over something as simple and well-intentioned as this. Milady is a proper lady, of course, and Haru grew up with far too many lessons on manners and etiquette and ladyship to ever forget. Not to mention that even this feels like an act of rebellion against her father, to choose a lady to court instead of a man – and a lady he’d never pick, kind and courageous.

Makoto’s blush spreads even further, and she ducks her head. “I don’t know what to say,” she quickly says. “How am I supposed to return this gesture… I’ve never gotten chocolate before…”

“Simply your smile is enough for me,” says Haru softly.

Because it’s the truth, too. All Haru wants is the happiness of those she loves, and the freedom to love them. She wants to leave her father’s clutches and build a life for herself, a life she can fill with plants and love and good food, and all the people she’s come to love during these horrible years.

* * *

Change is achieved only through small victories in a never-ending uphill battle, et cetera, et cetera, and as much as Akira wants to kick the teeth in of every person who ever treated Akechi like shit, they know that if they ever want to get through Shido’s or Okumura’s Palace they’ll have to grow stronger. Which means that starting on Sunday, Akira starts to spend all their free time in Mementos, hunting Shadows with the desperation of a student cramming for an exam.

On Monday after school they ask in the chat if anyone’s up for Mementos, and Ryuji, Ann, Haru and Yusuke announce they’ll gladly come with. Morgana tags along as well, of course, and as soon as the subway dissolves into red and black Joker warps the team down to the deepest platform they’ve reached so far.

Akechi told them to get stronger. Akira’s going to blow his expectations out of the water.

They fight Shadows for a while, continuing down to the next floor only when Mona starts to get worried about encountering the Reaper. Akira wants to get stronger, sure, but as much of a learning experience fighting the Reaper would be, they’re in no hurry to die.

On the floor below is Jose, waving to them as he drives past. Panther happily waves back, while Noir stops dead and says, “Who was that?”

“Jose?” says Ryuji. “He’s always down here, haven’t you seen him before?”

“No, never,” says Haru. “Is he some sort of Shadow?”

“No…?” says Ann. “He’s not a human, but… hmm. Yeah, I don’t know!”

Haru glances at Akira. They shrug and say, “He sells items to us.”

It’s more than a little weird that Haru hasn’t ever seen Jose before, but maybe he hasn’t been here for very long, either. Or maybe he’s just been avoiding Haru and Akechi, though then, why’s he so attached to the Phantom Thieves?

The easiest way to get an answer is to ask.

Mona transforms into a van, they get in, and Joker starts to look for Jose. Today he’s put up shop in one of those dead ends with cages set into the walls, and he waves enthusiastically when Mona comes to a stop. None of the others ever come with Akira to barter with Jose, but this time, Haru stands up and follows them out. She stands a few steps behind Akira when they greet Jose, and Jose takes a look at her and says, “Oh, is she one of your friends, Joker-san?”

No recognition. Jose seems only curious. “This is Noir,” says Akira, and gestures toward her. “She’s our newest member. Say, does anyone else ever come down here?”

“Sometimes,” says Jose, and turns back to Akira. “But they’re so hard to find, I’ve never really tried. I think Mementos works to conceal them.”

“How do you mean?” asks Haru, taking a step forward so she’s standing next to Akira.

“Mementos changes all the time, miss,” says Jose. “I can manipulate it by striking pressure points, but that only affects parts of it. Either those enigmas are doing the same thing, or Mementos is doing it for them.”

“This place is _sentient_?” asks Akira. “Is there a will beyond the will of the masses that controls this place? Or…” they don’t know what they mean. They don’t know what they’re supposed to be asking, exactly, but they feel as if they’ve stumbled upon some great game-changing truth and only needs to turn it around to understand it. However that’s supposed to happen. Maybe they’ve always known it, actually, and maybe Jose’s just retelling the basics of cognition dressed up in philosophy.

Jose’s a sweet kid, but also very inhuman. “Of course it’s sentient,” he says cheerfully. “Can’t you hear it breathing? Can’t you see how its blood pumps through the walls? When so many minds come together, it’s… hmm. I don’t really know how to explain it. But the city is alive, don’t you think so? When so much… _essence_ is concentrated in one place like this, it comes to life.”

“And this… being is hiding things from you?” asks Haru carefully. “Doesn’t that frighten you?”

Jose laughs. “No, not… no. Do you know every detail about what transpires in your world, miss? All the time?” he pauses. “Probably not. I’m only here to learn about humans and their desires. I drink what this place is made of, so as long as there are flowers… it doesn’t bother me.”

“Hmm.” Akira rocks back on their heels, hands in their pockets. That’s a lot to think about. But if Jose’s confident enough about Mementos not being a danger to live here, then it can’t be _that_ bad, right? “Do you still have those snacks you were selling last time?”

Jose happily takes out his wares, and Haru stands behind Joker’s shoulder as they peruse Jose’s wares. They hand over a couple dozen flowers to Jose – and they _are_ made of thoughts, aren’t they, with the way they behave: sticking to Akira, invisible, until they need to hand them over – and Jose exchanges them for human snacks. They step back. They bid farewell. They walk back towards the van and Haru quickly falls in step with them to say, “Do _you_ know how to manipulate ‘pressure points’?”

“Nope,” says Akira. “I think manipulating cognition’s reserved for metaverse beings.”

Haru stops. “But haven’t you been manipulating cognition this entire time?”

Joker stops too, and cocks their head.

Haru explains. “You’ve been trying to reach the deepest floor of Mementos, haven’t you?” she glances at a wall, then abruptly steps closer and lowers her voice. “To find out what’s in the depths of the collective unconscious. And to do that, you’ve been making the public think more and more about you, which lets you go deeper and deeper. And the more powerful the public thinks you are, the more powerful you’ll be in Mementos – unless you will yourself to view yourself in a different light.”

“How powerful we are depends on how powerful the public _thinks_ we are?” asks Akira, and leans down, matching Haru’s secrecy.

“Partly. In the metaverse you are what you believe you are. That’s why healing works so well – if you stop noticing the pain, stop thinking about it, the pain ceases to exist. And if you believe yourself to be invincible, then… well, you’ll at least be very hard to harm.” Haru smiles wryly. “But for the change to be lasting, you need to believe in it hard enough to bend the cognition around you. That’s also why healing works better in safe rooms; because the cognition is weaker there, it’s easier to twist it.”

_How curious._

“How did you even learn about this?” asks Akira. They don’t think Mona’s even explained any of this – or at least not in these terms, not that Akira can remember. And this definitely seems like highly useful knowledge.

“We mostly just… picked knowledge up as we went. Goro and I used to make up theories, about how things worked in here. Sometimes we’d interrogate Shadows.” Haru laughs. “We thought we knew so much, but then you all started changing hearts, and I realised…” she trails off.

Mona starts flashing his headlights on and off as if impatient, and Akira starts walking again, Haru following.

“What do you know about manipulating cognition to make ourselves stronger?” Akira then asks Mona.

“What, like making people think we’re super tough?” asks Mona. “That’s what happens whenever we take down a famous target!”

“But you don’t necessarily need to do just that to become stronger in here?” says Haru.

“I mean,” says Mona. It’s hard to read his facial expression when he’s a vehicle. “Isn’t it mostly the other way around? If people thought cats could transform into humans, then I’d rather be that than a car. But people don’t, so that’s why I’m like this.”

“The cognition of the masses can’t control you completely,” says Haru. “Isn’t it, first and foremost, your _own_ view of yourself which allows you to switch between forms, Mona-chan?”

Mona says, “Huh.”

So this is new knowledge for him, too.

_Shall we try it out?_

Akira can, if they really pay attention, feel all their Personas and pick out their voices in their mind – easiest is Arsène, and Akira usually only hears his advice, anyway. They mostly only feel their Personas while in battle, when their thoughts all blend together and Akira can use the abilities of their Personas like an extension of themself, without any delay or hesitation. The Personas all speak in different voices, but if they all say and want the same thing, it doesn’t distract Akira – having a phantom audience cheering on their every move only makes them bolder.

Usually they ignore the murmur of their Personas without even thinking about it, but now they can feel them. Close and obvious. And they’re all keenly focused on Arsène’s suggestion.

“So, I can just will myself to become stronger?” Akira asks Haru.

“Yes. If you believe hard enough.” Haru studies their face. “You think you can do it, don’t you?”

* * *

Akira gets them into a few fights. Haru watches them in the lulls between the bursts of action, from the focused expression on their face to the thoughtful way they rest their hand over their mask before calling out a name. This deep in Mementos the Phantom Thieves need to hit a Shadow several times for it to go down, chipping away at its defences while ducking away from its swipes. It's not that she's attempting to judge their performance, but well, Akira’s trying to _make_ themself more powerful, and – Haru really wants to see them succeed.

Akira gradually gets bolder and stronger, the rest of the Thieves quickly catching up to them. Their teamwork is wonderful, Haru observes again, quietly. Once, Fox and Skull pull off some kind of attack together which makes their surroundings for just a second resemble a restaurant, which is incredibly odd – but the resulting blast _does_ kill their enemy in one fell swoop. Their progress is otherwise slow, however, and Haru waits for that moment when clarity will strike them.

Belief is the easiest way to manipulate cognition. So when Akira crashes into yet another group of Shadows who gave them a whole lot of trouble just 30 minutes ago, and this time Fox simply decimates them with a Mabufula, looking a little shocked himself at the potency of the blast, Haru thinks _of course_. Of course Akira would find it easier to believe in their teammates.

“Whoa!” exclaims Mona. “Was this what you were waiting for, Joker?”

“They were waiting for _what_?” says Ryuji. “Did you give Fox some kinda buff or what?”

Akira withdraws the hand from their pocket holding a shimmering blue toy shaped like a star. “Something like that,” they say, and winks at Ryuji. “We all should be a lot stronger now.”

“Oh, the star Jose gave you!” says Ann, grinning. “I was just wondering if you were ever going to wish on it.”

Joker just smiles and slips the star back in their pocket. The sight of the star does something to the team, though. Milady can feel it. Belief is the easiest way to manipulate cognition down here, and the Phantom Thieves obviously believe in that star. Joker must’ve realised it too, and realised that the fastest way to make the whole team stronger would be if they all unconditionally believe that some outside power – the star – just _made_ them stronger.

“Oh!” says Haru brightly, and hefts her axe. “I think Milady just learned something new!”

She didn’t. Haru’s cherry-picked Milady’s skills over the course of two years and isn’t about to change her current repertoire now. But-

“Hmm.” Yusuke takes off his mask, then puts it back on. “Yes… Goemon, too, seems to have gained some new insight.”

Ann gasps. “Hecate too!”

Haru looks at Akira, who smirks at her. Then they say, “Want to see how much stronger we are now?”

Ryuji slings an arm around their shoulders and grins. “You bet we do!”

Joker picks Skull, Panther and Fox for the front team, so Mona and Noir hang back and watch them slaughter their way through three Shadows in quick succession. Haru didn’t use to mind sitting on the floor of Mementos, but since that discussion with Jose the fleshy, veiny ground doesn’t look as appealing anymore. Neither do the walls. She stands with Mona at an intersection between tunnels and asks him carefully, “Could you tell me more about that star Joker had?”

“They got it from Jose,” says Mona. “It holds a lot of power over cognition, though that’s probably because humans like to wish on falling stars. Anyway, we mostly use the star for Showtime attacks.”

“Showtime?” asks Haru.

“Yeah!” Mona’s grins always look mischievous. “In that fight against Anubis, you saw Fox and Skull’s team-up move, right?”

“Oh, that.” No one else had said a word about the sudden change of scenery, which had only been an illusion, anyway, and besides, Haru thought it was another of Akira’s efforts to make them stronger. It was a very weird thing to watch, nevertheless. “And you need the power of the star to perform such a thing?”

“Yep.” Mona looks up at her intently. “Come to think of it, there’s another Showtime attack I’ve been planning out for a while now…”

“Oh? Is there some way I could assist you, Mona-chan?”

Mona puts a paw to his chin in thought. “Maybe so! But then you’ll have to listen to me explain it _very_ carefully.”

Haru agrees to that, and Mona starts to talk excitedly about an obviously heist-inspired team-up move. It’s very bold and very showy, and it reminds Haru of anime she watched as a kid. It’s also obvious that Mona’s planned to execute this particular move with a partner, only… “Can I offer a few suggestions?” Haru asks. Mona agrees, and when Joker and the others come back, Mona steals the star straight out of their coat and tells it solemnly about their plan.

The star pulses with a brilliant light, and the others cheer.

“Looks like the star liked that!” exclaims Ryuji and makes an unsuccessful attempt to ruffle the fur between Mona’s ears, Mona swatting at him.

“Of course it did!” says Mona. “It’s a great idea.”

Haru’s smiling. Akira says, “I think it’s time we return to Shido’s Palace. Does tomorrow work for everyone?”

It doesn’t, because Yusuke has an urgent project to finish and Ryuji promised to help his mother with something, but eventually they agree on Wednesday.

* * *

After school’s finally fucking over, Goro gets on a train and heads to Shido’s office. If there’s anything Goro’s learnt while in Shido’s ‘employ’, it’s that no matter who you kill in the metaverse, the next day the world’s going to keep turning just like usual. Nothing changes. He made a meeting with Shido, and the fact that he killed Shido’s cognition of himself directly after doesn’t affect that.

6 pm. Monday. Shido’s office.

He leans against the wall outside of his office instead of sitting in the sofa, arms crossed, he’s just got _so_ many better things to be doing than waiting here, exactly, miss janitor – until Shido calls, “Door’s open.”

Goro smooths out his expression nice and neat, picks up his briefcase, and opens the door. It’s nothing dramatic about any of it, obviously, and Shido’s office has literally not changed at all in the two weeks since Goro was last here. Drab, ugly, no chairs to wait in. Goro stands in front of the desk and says pleasantly, “Shido-san. What was it you wanted to discuss?”

What is it he wants.

“I need you to deal with some people for me.” Of course, what else. Shido removes a document from the stack of papers on his desk, and Goro quietly takes it. There are three names listed there. The next month’s scandals, maybe. But Shido says, “I want them dead before next week.”

Shido likes to make unreasonable demands.

“Three people dead in a week?” says Goro, and scoffs. “That’d be a little suspicious, don’t you think-“

“And I,” says Shido, cutting off Goro without even raising his voice, “need you to shut these people up, Akechi. Breakdowns, shutdowns – I don’t give a shit as long as they won’t talk ever again.”

Akechi is silent.

Shido stops flipping through his papers and looks at Akechi. “Listen brat, I control your finances. I pay for your school, your flat, everything. If you don’t do exactly as I say then I can take all that away. I don’t care if you’re ‘ _busy’_ with something else, this is your number one priority. You get me?”

It’s not really the fact that he’ll have to either kill or break the minds of those three people that bothers him. You recover just fine from psychotic breakdowns anyway. The thing which makes Akechi feel slow and stupid and small is that yesterday, during the days spent with the fucking Phantom Thieves, it felt as if he’d somehow forgotten that Shido all but owns him (how could he?). That Shido doesn’t care how good his grades are or how good he lies on TV or how quickly he can kill someone – to Shido he’ll always be nothing. Just another pawn on the board.

“Well?” says Shido, impatiently.

“Yes, sir,” says Akechi calmly. “Within the week, you said?”

“You heard me.” Shido finally fucking finally looks down at his papers again. “The plan’s progressing well. The next target of those brats will be Okumura. I want you to be ready when they announce it.”

“Of course, Shido-san,” says Akechi. “Am I dismissed?”

Shido waves a careless hand, so Akechi bows and takes his leave.

His school and his flat, yes- and it’s not like has a _real_ job with the police or the media, so Shido may as well be all but paying for Akechi’s goddamn groceries.

And his phone, whose existence Akechi is reminded of as it vibrates against his leg as he’s taking the lift down to the ground floor. He fishes it out and opens the messaging app.

ALIBABA: hey r u busy

ALIBABA: nvm i don’t care

ALIBABA: i want u to go home and take pics of all ur hardcopy evidence right now

There are no cameras in the lift. Akechi still turns his phone off and shoves it back in his pocket.

He leaves the building and heads for the train station, where he’s recognised. The people on the train talk about the Phantom Thieves and drop snide comments about how some people should just keep their opinions to themselves, which Akechi assuredly already got, thank you very much!

Only when Akechi’s left the train and is walking to his flat does he look at his phone again.

ALIBABA: i know u read my messages

ALIBABA: are u there? hey???

ALIBABA: we made a deal didn’t we?

Thinking about Sakura Futaba makes Akechi incredibly uncomfortable, but nailing Shido to a wall would be easier with help – which is the only reason Oracle made a deal with him. But they _do_ indeed have a deal, he supposes-

And then it fucking happens again. _An unlikely ally_ , says Ronja cheerfully, _with whom you’ll search for answers. Remember that you are not alone on your path, and do not ever underestimate the tenacity of the Hermit – and your will shall remain unshakable forevermore._

He stumbles, catches himself. Keeps walking.

He needs to get to his flat. If he can just reach his flat, then he can sit down there and think about all of this for a long hard minute. In peace.

* * *

ALIBABA: so was that all of it

AKECHI: Not enough papers for you, Oracle?

ALIBABA: what no im gonna have to look up all the people mentioned in those docs already, im running searches as we chat

ALIBABA: have u talked to literally everyone involved in shidos conspiracy or what

AKECHI: More or less. Their Shadows are usually very chatty.

ALIBABA: oh u can do that??

ALIBABA: not that anything from the metaverse would work in court but ig its useful for finding new leads

AKECHI: Precisely.

* * *

Two days later they’re back in the cruise ship, and in addition to going to Mementos again by themself Akira has worked part-time with both Lala and Iwai, studied, bought some new guns and taken the twins to see Skytree. They don’t know if they feel more prepared than before or not, but they’re sure as hell going to keep telling themself that they’re invincible.

Anyway, they warp to the inside of the cruise ship, and then Ryuji says, “Hey wait. Since there was that freaky Noir lookalike in Okumura’s Palace, you guys think there’s one of Crow in here?”

Ann looks worried. “Now that you mention it… “

“He might have a point,” concedes Makoto. “What do you think, Oracle?”

They’ve stopped just outside of the saferoom door, so Akira thinks they should be safe enough for now. Still, they look at Oracle for answers along with the rest of the Thieves.

“Uh,” says Oracle. “I don’t know that I could detect anything, since there are already so many other cognitions around here. But since Shido seems to have cognitions of everyone he knows in here… probably yes!”

Akechi makes a sound, and Akira glances at him.

“I highly doubt it,” he says.

“But you can’t be sure, right?” says Makoto. “Why wouldn’t Shido have a cognition of you?”

“Because,” says Akechi, slowly. His sigh comes out as a hiss. “Because there are only cognitions of important people in here, people Shido can _use_. I’m less than dirt to him.”

“What?” says Ryuji. “How? You’re his bigshot magical hitman, aren’t you?”

Akechi crosses his arms. “And if I say there’s no cognition of me in here, then wouldn’t I _know_ what I’m talking about?”

“Let’s just go,” says Akira. “We’ll have to get through this Palace no matter what, either way.”

The restaurant is just as they left it. They creep through it by darting from table to table, crouched low, and when a guard inevitably catches them Akira grips their dagger and stands up tall and confident. Smirks. Fake it till you make it, and if their team believes they’ve got this then they’ll win.

The guard splits into four Shadows, and Makoto blasts them, Ann burns them, and when it’s Yusuke’s turn, he cuts the last of them down neatly.

“Aw yeah!” exclaims Ryuji. “We’re really starting to get better, huh?”

Akira smiles.

They take the stairs down, and find out that apparently they need a membership card for the restaurant. Fortunately, it’s not hard to acquire, and soon enough they’ve found the politician. Makoto, Futaba and Akechi have all memorised the names and details of the five people they need letters from, and none of them are afraid to fight. When the cognition-Shadow fusion splits into monsters the Phantom Thieves are ready.

They win, of course.

Makoto needs to have her broken arm healed by magic, after, but they won, and they’ve got the letter.

So they leave the restaurant in high spirits, letter tucked safely into Akira’s coat. They’ve still got four letters to go, sure, but they’ve finally made some progress, and Akira feels just a little bit lighter. The fact that they managed to get this letter proves that they _can_ manage to finish this Palace, and Okumura’s too. They’ll be able to help Haru and Akechi, because there’s nothing the Phantom Thieves can’t do.

A ride in a lift later, and they step out into a corridor, Mona skipping ahead and freezing immediately.

“Huh?” says Ryuji, from behind Akira. “Is there-“

“There’s a cognition ahead of us!” exclaims Mona angrily.

Several of the Thieves glance at Akechi. His expression is tight, as if anxious, then goes flat. “Could be any yakuza,” he says, and takes out a gun.

It’s an incredibly realistic-looking gun, now that Akira’s looking at it.

He walks past Mona to stand in front of the group, and Akira follows him a beat later. Cautiously. They don’t know what to expect but they keep a hand on their own gun, thinking that Akechi was probably lying. About it being an impossibility to have a cognition of him in here.

The cognitive Haru was ludicrously strong. Akira doesn’t want to imagine a cognitive Akechi.

There’s a person in a tan suit lounging against the wall some distance ahead, and when Akechi and Akira – the Thieves following them warily – approach, they push off the wall and steps to face them.

 _It’s Akechi_ , thinks Akira, and then the real Akechi shoots him.

And then Akechi shoots him again, and again and again, and Akira tears their eyes away from the also incredibly realistic-looking cognitive Akechi, now ripped to shreds, only to be able to look at the real Akechi and take a step forward. They reach out a hand before they think better of it, and say, “Akechi-“

Akechi’s head jerks to look at them. Akira stands carefully still, and doesn’t think about that sudden and startling violence. They don’t think about how Akechi didn’t even _hesitate_ to shoot himself. They are calm and collected, leader-voice on, and they say gently, “It’s dead, Akechi. Put the gun down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akira: so cognition means whatever i think is real becomes real  
> haru: basically, yep!  
> akira: so what if i believed i had fangs and glowing eyes. and also was taller. would that be cool or what


	8. simple and clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” says Ryuji, after a minute. “Goro’s not going to kill those people. Alright. Anyone want to ask about the one he _did_ kill today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for your patience! this fic will most likely be 12 chapters & i'm in the process of typing up the last ones. thanks for all the support so far <3

Bang.

This will be a tad difficult to explain, is a thought Akechi has as the cognition drops. _Why_ is he still playing a game and keeping secrets and biding his time? Has he just been playing the long con for so long that he doesn’t know how to _not_ keep secrets and scheme anymore? Why’d he lie about the cognition? This behaviour is just plain counterproductive.

Perhaps he should consider stopping. Right now.

He shoots the cognition again.

Another thought: if this cognition only respawned then hell, Shido really must think he’s a puppet who never learns! Most replaceable kind of idiot in the world. It’s obvious really – it’s always been. Akechi knew this. Shido is a horrid piece of filth and the only reason Akechi still works for him is because there’s no way out, because there’s no one who can help him, and – maybe that statement is worth reconsidering. Because Haru’s been helping him, the Thieves have been trying. There could be a way out-

 _Anything_ has to be better than this.

Blood’s pooling around the cognition. Its stupid body wearing his goddamn awful beige school uniform jerks when he shoots it yet again.

Of course, thinks Akechi distantly, there’s always _some_ way out. The one way that never fails. The way his dear old mother took.

Would he respawn like this cognition if he tried it? Would Shido just replace him with another gullible, stupid, desperate, pathetic little kid-

“Akechi?”

He turns, and there’s Kurusu. Akira. Appearing as if from a dream. Looking at him and saying, slow and measured, “It’s dead, Akechi. Put the gun down.”

Putting himself down would be the better choice, wouldn’t it, which is a thought Akechi obviously does not voice. He doesn’t want to put the gun down, even less so after Kurusu’s _told_ him to do it, but – what else is he going to do, keep on shooting the cognition until his gun runs out of imaginary ammo? The cognition _is_ dead. This doesn’t look good, but to keep on shooting would look even worse.

The game-

Oh, this isn’t a fucking game. He just decided to stop lying, didn’t he.

Maybe Akechi’s just tired.

Slowly, he lowers the gun and even holsters it. Very in control, very normal.

And that’s that.

 _Now, Akechi_ , he tells himself, faux cheerfully. _You’ve got two options_. He can either play it safe by sticking close to Shido’s orders and hanging out with the Phantom Thieves as little as possible, and that way having the luxury of being able to go through Shido’s Palace very slowly. Very methodically. Pretending until he can’t anymore. Or, he could say fuck it and burn that bridge, infiltrate Shido’s Palace at a frantic pace and ignore Shido’s orders and prepare for retribution. Gods know it’d be a pain in the ass to deal with if Shido realises he’s turned on him, but- the thought, as nauseous as it makes Akechi feel, also makes a fucked-up a little grin fitting of Loki twist his face. _Why not?_ If Shido thinks he’s so damn predictable, then Akechi will show him he’s not.

He's a stupid, annoying little brat who’s always feeling sorry for himself and always doing the cruellest, most awful things for no good reason as if trying to prove something, his only real talent being a good liar – but he thinks that Haru- He’s pretty sure that Haru would hate it if he killed himself. She risked so much by dragging him to the Phantom Thieves. That means something. It’s not nothing.

Akechi will have to survive.

So, now comes the hard part: the explanations.

Akechi hates explaining himself or his business or his thought process more than- he hates a lot of things, actually, and Akechi doesn’t feel like getting into it right now. But. He’ll just have to – take his fucking medicine and do it. No matter how much it makes his skin crawl.

“Shido,” says Akechi, and makes himself turn and face the Phantom Thieves. He looks at Haru because that’s the easiest. “Gave me a hitlist. This week. He wants me to kill three more people and… I’m sure you’d all rather I didn’t.”

His voice is marvellously steady. His expression, on the other hand, is far too exhilarated for someone who just mutilated a corpse, but well, we can’t have everything now can we?

Haru sets her jaw and asks, “Is it safe for you to ignore his orders?”

“As much as it ever is,” says Akechi, voice too pleasant, so he makes his tone flat instead. He can either put up his now slightly deranged façade of perky chipper high-schooler, or he can let it be. Drop it. Which would leave his expression a wreck and his voice completely monotone- he’s so tired.

But he decided! He decided just now to try and stop lying. His skin crawls at the thought of not rigidly controlling his own expression, but perhaps – Akira, or someone, would appreciate it if he showed a genuine expression. No matter how dead that expression looks like. He’s seen himself in the mirror, practising up his smiles to hide that inhuman emptiness. And it wouldn’t even be – very – manipulative, to be honest for once. Surely not. It could be him showing some goodwill to the Thieves, showing some – gods forbid – vulnerability. Honesty.

How about that, Loki? _Ronja_?

Akechi clears his throat. He says, “No, it’s not. Shido has too much on me for me to be able to leave. But if you can ruin him like you ruined the others-“ Madarame, Kaneshiro “-then. I mean, the only reason I ever…” he hears himself trail off.

It’s mortifying to not have anything else to cover that up with. But he’s tired, and – scared, fine – and really. What else is there to say.

So Akechi looks at the Phantom Thieves.

Akira’s face is blank; they’re clearly mulling something over. But they catch Akechi’s eye and incline their head, a little. Haru’s become steely determination once again, and Niijima next to her looks about the same. Kitagawa looks as if he’s lost in thought. And Sakamoto is shaking his head, then takes a step forward and says, “Man, your life’s truly, really effed up. How dangerous is your boss, anyway?”

He sounds infuriatingly flippant, but he also didn’t refer to Shido as Akechi’s father, so Akechi supposes those two facts cancel each other out.

Akechi says, “Shido once ruined some random teenager’s life just because he could, suing them for assault because he tripped over some pavement on a business trip. He _owns_ the courts. He’s got people everywhere, he – yes. He’s dangerous.”

“No way,” says Akira, and everyone glances at them. They’ve got a truly incredulous look on their face – or as incredulous as Akira’s face ever gets. “Shido’s the guy who got me charged with assault and sent on probation.”

All the air leaves Akechi in one baffled burst of laughter. The Phantom Thieves trade wide-eyed looks and Sakamoto and Takamaki and Morgana all exclaim out loud about how ridiculous a coincidence this is-

(if there’s any thing such as fate this has to be it)

-and finally Sakamoto says, decisively, “Well we’ve definitely gotta take him down then.”

“No fucking shit,” says Akechi. Like Sakamoto didn’t realise it before. He’d be angrier if it wasn’t for how bizarre this is.

“Alright,” says Niijima. “I think we’re done here for today.”

“We barely did anything,” argues Akechi.

Akira glances at the dead cognition then says, “Let’s go to a saferoom.”

No one argues. Akechi thinks about it, but – if they’re going to continue their argument it’d be better to not stand around right in the open as they do it. So, whatever. They can go to a saferoom. They can, they _can_ , and Akechi needs to be calm, cool and- honest.

* * *

Here’s a thing Akira doesn’t like: the smile on Akechi’s face when he turned around. Another thing: the way he’d just kept shooting at the cognition until Akira stopped him. Another: the way his shoulders are slumping and his expression keeps shifting between despair, exhilaration and complete nothingness.

Akira’s seventeen, and Akechi’s technically older than them, but nevertheless-

Nevertheless, Akira can’t stop themself from thinking about how young he looks, seen from the side when he takes off his helmet and his hair’s all tangled up and he frowns. He doesn’t look lean and dangerous then, he just looks thin. He doesn’t look like any sort of TV-personality, or charming detective, or even Akechi the experienced Persona-user. His face is too thin and Akira keeps looking at his face and seeing more and more details they hadn’t seen before and they think, absently, that in the past _someone_ had looked at him. _Many_ people had looked at him. And thought only of how to use him, and then they’d _done_ exactly that, and Akira wants to destroy them all.

“Akechi-“ says Makoto, after they’ve all sat down in the saferoom.

Akechi sighs. “Just call me Goro, Niijima-san.”

“Oh,” says Makoto, blinking. “Then you can call me Makoto.”

“Call me Ryuji,” says Skull, joining in. “Actually, I’m pretty sure everyone here would be okay with being on a first-name basis, right guys?”

Affirmations from everyone, even Futaba. She looks tired, but not – like she’s falling into despair, or well. Not as much as Akechi is. She’s taken out her laptop to lounge on the bed in the appropriately decorated for a cruise-ship little alcove to the side.

“Yes,” agrees Akira. “I’d like it if you called me Akira, Akechi.”

“Goro,” he corrects. He looks uncomfortable. “Let’s view this as an offer of – partnership.”

“I thought you’d already joined us?” asks Akira, trying on a tentative smile.

Goro – Goro, _Goro_ – turns his head to the side, letting his hair hide his face, and says delicately, “Well. If you say so.”

Then there’s a moment of silence.

“So,” says Ryuji, after a minute. “Goro’s not going to kill those people. Alright. Anyone want to ask about the one he _did_ kill today?”

“It wasn’t a person,” says Morgana, but he doesn’t sound very comforted by that anyway. “Not a real one, anyway. Though seeing as the cognition was of Akechi – I mean, _Goro_ himself…”

Everyone who wasn’t already watching him glances at Goro. Akira listens to the muted murmurs of their Personas – they know all that they’re saying, anyway, from concern for Goro to bloodlust for everything inside this Palace – and then says, “Goro said there wouldn’t be a cognition. He didn’t expect it, so he didn’t react well.”

They lock eyes with Goro.

“No,” says Goro, heavily. “I’d been here before and seen the cognition,” he admits, and the Thieves share glances. “I’d _killed_ it before. But now it’d fucking – reappeared.”

So, he killed it again. Right. Well. It would unquestionably have been hostile and have attacked them, but still.

That cognition looked _exactly_ like Goro.

“So, cognitions can reappear,” says Makoto grimly. “Oracle, we’ll need to keep this in mind for the future.”

“No kidding,” mumbles Futaba from the bed.

No one wants to bring the subject of his mental health up, Akira suspects. But they’ve all been supporting Futaba, and Yusuke, and even Akira – on one occasion they pray everyone’s already forgotten – so why not Goro as well? Even though Goro’s mental health issues make themselves obvious in much more violent ways than the others’ had.

It’d just been so startling to see the cognition. First its uncannily similar appearance to the real Goro, and then watching how viciously Goro had shot it and just _kept_ shooting it. And the _corpse_ had been so incredibly, startlingly realistic as well.

“In my defence,” says Goro suddenly. “I’ve been really stressed lately.”

“Okaaay,” says Ann slowly. “I mean. I guess I can kind of see how it’d be cathartic or something to violently murder a replica of yourself? Except not really?”

Goro scowls. Haru says, “I will talk about it later with Goro, rest assured, but for now I think we have more pressing problems?”

“Sorry,” says Ann. “Anyway, what do you need us to do, Goro?”

He looks startled. “To _do_?” he repeats. “I’d like it if we could steal Shido’s heart before the week’s over, ideally. Otherwise – well, he knows where I live, and he might consider me too risky to keep around and cheap enough to kill in case I don’t… keep doing what he wants me to do. But he probably won’t go that far-“

“The election’s coming up,” says Haru.

“I am aware,” says Goro curtly, and closes his eyes briefly. Once again Akira wonders at how young he can look, in certain moments. “Shido pays for most of my things, including my flat. Honestly, I’m not sure how he’d go about removing or punishing me…”

“Hey man,” says Ryuji. “I dunno if I’m misunderstanding the situation or not, but if you want to, you could totally crash at my place. My mom won’t mind.”

“I couldn’t-“ says Goro immediately.

“I could ask Sae,” agrees Makoto. “She’s been acting really off lately, but still she probably wouldn’t turn you away.”

Goro grimaces for a second, then says stiffly, “Thank you… Ryuji. I think I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Awesome,” says Ryuji and holds up his hand for a fist-bump.

Goro looks at it for a moment, then attempts to shake Ryuji’s hand.

Akira and Ann start laughing, and soon Futaba and Morgana and Haru join in. Goro looks irritated and withdraws his hand quickly, but Haru beams at him and then Goro just sighs.

* * *

It’s not peace, or forgiveness, or even success, but… That went unexpectedly well, apart from the part when Goro told everyone to use his name and Ronja assumed he’d made a _contract_ (whatever that means) with every single Phantom Thief. But Goro will just have to ignore that. Now, there’s also no way he won’t regret taking Sakamoto up on his offer – and Ryuji’s definitely going to regret inviting him to his goddamn home. Goro’s an assassin, and worse than that, a complete fucking mess. And a celebrity. There couldn’t be a worse person to share a room with in the entire world, even temporarily.

But for now – things are tentatively calm.

Everyone keeps sneaking glances at Akechi as they leave the Palace, but he can deal with it. It’s no worse than being accosted by fans, really, so it’s fine. It is.

Back in Chiyoda night is falling and all the Phantom Thieves get very preoccupied with quickly heading home as soon as they’ve returned. Akira and Haru linger around Goro though, and when at the train platform Ryuji decides to run off and buy a soda or whatever, Akechi turns to them. Haru says, “You have my number. And remember that I love you, okay?”

Goro only manages a nod, and Haru smiles at him then rushes away to chat to Makoto, who’s standing farther away on the platform and glancing in their direction.

Akira pulls Goro aside and says, hands shoved into their pockets, “You can message me as well, if there’s anything.”

Oh, there are many, many things – _stop feeling sorry for yourself._

Goro grits his teeth, clenches his anxious hands. Ronja’s presence nudges at his temple and Goro thinks that, hell, he already revealed more than he ever planned to today. And he genuinely wants to be a part of the – fucking Phantom Thieves. And it’s not like this could honestly make it any worse, he reasons, when his life’s already so fucked and it’s all his fault and everything that’s ever been good these last few years has been thanks to Haru – or lately – Akira. And Akira’s such a nice distraction. And it’s such a fat lie Goro tells himself, saying that he doesn’t fervently want Akira. So Goro turns towards Akira and crushes their mouths together, ready for Akira to push him away.

It’d be okay. Fine. Completely expected and understandable, but really, Goro’s _seen_ the way Akira looks at him. if there’s any such thing as fate it’s this.

Akira doesn’t move at all for a couple of seconds, and then their hand carefully lands on Goro’s cheek, tangling in his hair. And then they’re _really_ kissing, and for a minute all that exists is Akira and the sleepy background noise of the train station. They’re standing behind a pillar, not really visible, which is the justification Goro uses on himself to explain why it takes him an entire minute to pull away.

He bites Akira’s lip, then withdraws. Akira’s hand stays on his cheek, the other one on his arm; and Akechi had put a hand on Akira’s waist at some point, too. (exactly 27 seconds in)

Akira’s lips are very red. Their eyes are Joker’s eyes. “Goro,” they murmur.

Sometimes it’s worth it, being gay, thinks Goro nonsensically. Then he asks, “Wait. Can I still consider myself gay if you and I…“

Akira laughs. “Ah, sure. I’d say it’s pretty gay of me to kiss _you_ , anyway.” They look at Goro through their lashes, which is an action that looks about as hot as it looks silly, and Akechi takes a deep breath.

“Good to know,” he says. If it’s gay for the two of them to kiss, then surely it’d be fucked up for Goro to wish that Akira would hold his ribcage together with their own hands or consume his heart. Take it away from him and keep it. At least if Goro’s worrying about this – ah, nice normal teenage angst – then he can’t worry about his failing career as a hitman.

“Hey,” says Akira, softly. Their hand on Goro’s cheek has moved to play with his hair. “I don’t know how to say this, but… are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“What do you mean”, says Akechi. He already hates where this conversation’s heading.

“We _just_ left the ship,” they say. “And considering what happened there, I’m a little… worried. And you said, earlier, that you wouldn’t do… _this_ , before we’d gotten rid of Shido.”

Well, but Akechi’s also a jumpy indecisive little bastard- oh, shut up.

Just making the decision to ignore Shido’s orders and go with the Phantom Thieves, shoot the cognition and walk away and leave, was a huge risk. The biggest risk. At least that’s how it felt to Goro, and he’s been weaving such intricate lies around himself, choking himself in the net made of his own words and stupidity and naïve agreements.

He’d been scared, at the jazz club. He’d told lies. He’d thought it’d be better to withdraw, hide himself from Akira. It hadn’t been the right moment at the jazz club – and right now is definitely an even worse moment.

But Goro is done planning and done denying things.

“I changed my mind,” says Goro. His mouth feels dry. He thought he’d rather die than ask for help, but here he is, anyway. Still alive. “Before you showed up I had my plan, and I knew how my life would end. A plan so simple, so easy to follow. But you and Haru…”

Destroyed everything. Goro’s still alive, see.

 _But really_ , he thinks, looking at Akira’s face. If he can make it through this year, then perhaps- _no_. He cuts that line of thought in half right there. he’s smart enough to realise that if he ever really, actually gets out of this situation, away from Shido without going to prison, and is then forced to think about such a lofty concept as having a _future_ , he will crumple like a soda can. He’s not allowed to think about the future. Distraction is a must at all times.

“So, this isn’t a cry for help?” says Akira, their tone light but their eyes serious.

“No,” snaps Goro, then shakes his head. _Please_ , thinks Goro. _Distract me with anything please._ “Definitely not. But if you’re not interested-“

“I am,” says Akira immediately. They haven’t stopped watching Goro for even a moment. “And if you say you don’t want to talk… can I kiss you again?”

Goro’s turn to huff a laugh. So simple, easy, _innocent_ a question. Akira’s such a romantic.

“Yes,” he says, and this time gets to enjoy the treat of Akira initiating the kiss.

* * *

As much as Goro likes having his own private space (his flat) which he controls, where no one will bother him and he’s always alone (because he’d never bring anyone there) he’s also aware of the fact that the flat is not truly his (which is a huge fucking problem). Shido’s renting it for him. It’s not a safe place at all, really. And for some reason the thought of going back there tonight makes Akechi’s skin crawl, so he genuinely, if he’s honest, appreciates Ryuji offering him a place to stay that in no way is affiliated with Shido.

Still, Akechi longs viciously for a private corner to hide when Ryuji lets him into his flat and explains that his mother isn’t home yet, she’ll show up in an hour or so maybe, so he’s just going to make dinner, you can look around or whatever, man.

And Ryuji’s being nice, cordial, _friendly_ , even – so Akechi just nods and smiles and tries not to think about how much he hates himself and his stupid awful brain. Akechi’s lived in several different places throughout his childhood, most of them worse than this. It’s truly, honestly not a big deal – as he keeps telling himself. And Ryuji’s really being far too kind, being idiotically nice in fact. Not that Goro’s going to tell him, seeing as it’s currently benefitting him. He just needs to get over himself and realise what a huge fucking favour Ryuji’s actually doing him right now.

“Oh yeah,” says Ryuji, appearing from the kitchenette all of a sudden. Not that Akechi’s moved from the living room or anything. “I’ll go set up a futon for you in my room. It’s a bit of a mess but at least there’s enough space.”

“Thank you,” says Goro. That’s all.

At least Sakamoto isn’t aware that Akechi just made out with his best friend.

(like teenagers. Normal teenagers. Imagine that, 15-year-old him)

Goro follows Ryuji into his room, which is about as bare as Goro’s if you don’t count all the clothes, manga issues and school supplies strewn about. There are a few posters, some video games… when Goro thinks about it the room obviously doesn’t resemble his own (not) flat at all.

“You can put down your case, you know,” says Sakamoto, and Goro places his briefcase on the floor, to lean against the wall.

Ryuji opens a closet and drags out a mattress and futon. Goro watches blankly as he spreads it all out on the floor, kicking a few schoolbooks aside so it’ll fit. A pillow and blanket join the heap, and Akechi wonders if Sakamoto often has guests over, since he seems so well-prepared. “This needs a pillowcase,” he says, having closed the closet and come to stand next to Akechi. He’s looking at the pillow.

“I suppose,” says Goro.

This situation is altogether so strange that Goro really doesn’t know how to act. Or think.

“And sheets, actually.” Ryuji frowns. Then he says, “I’m going to go check on the rice,” and abruptly leaves.

Akechi stands there for a bit before tentatively sitting down on the futon and calling Haru.

* * *

Ryuji’s not really sure what to feel about Akechi. He’d offered him a place to crash mostly because otherwise Akira would’ve done it for sure, and the Sakuras definitely don’t deserve to have Akechi staying in their café. Futaba obviously despises the guy. Like, who in that situation wouldn’t?

It’s just really hard to believe that Akechi – that _anyone_ their age – could have killed several people unprompted.

But it was hard to believe anything about the metaverse at first, too. And now look at ‘em.

Honestly, Ryuji’s no good at philosophy. But Akechi not being able to stay at his own flat was a problem, and Ryuji could solve it, so he did. Simple.

Ryuji just really hopes that Futaba isn’t upset that Ryuji invited Goro over. But Makoto and Ann invited Haru over, and Haru’s a hitman too, and they had a nice time as far as Ryuji knows, so this endeavour probably can’t go _that_ horribly. They already decided to help Goro anyways – even if he’s been an insufferable prick on TV – and Ryuji’s mother always taught him to be nice and helpful. And speaking of-

“Hi mum!” calls Ryuji when he hears the door open, stepping away from the stove so he can look at the door. “I’m in the kitchen and also I kinda brought a friend over!”

* * *

And _another_ thing, thinks Goro with apprehension, doesn’t Ryuji quite literally hate him? Sakamoto loathed the fact that Akechi was on TV, and just because Akira’s a freak who doesn’t care that Akechi murdered their friend’s mother doesn’t mean Ryuji is one. Really, what the hell is Ryuji playing at here? He invited him over, and showed him his room – for what? _Why_?

“Ryuji’s just nice like that!” says Haru over the phone.

“Maybe he is,” says Akechi, flatly, “But even if that _was_ the case, it’s not as if I can simply turn off my paranoia-“

“I know.” Haru sighs, and Akechi quiets and listens to her. “The whole time I was at Ann’s I kept second-guessing her kindness, but… looking back at it now, it seems as if she really _did_ want me there. And _did_ want to be kind. So just let Ryuji help you out, okay?”

“Fine.” Akechi’s not happy about it but he’s already taken up too much of Haru’s time dithering about nonsense.

Haru says, apologetically, “I’ll have to go now, sorry. But take care, Goro!”

“You too,” he says, and she ends the call.

Akechi gets up and starts to pace, but Ryuji’s room really isn’t big enough to pace in. And when Akechi steps outside, there’s an unfamiliar woman in the living room who looks at him and says, “You must be Ryuji’s friend.”

She’s short. Her hair isn’t dyed but Goro still imagines he can see the resemblance to her son in her face. He can’t tell how old she is, but she’s – smiling at him. Distractedly, yet nevertheless.

It’s been ages since Goro last interacted with _anyone’s_ mother.

“Yes,” says Akechi, and reaches quickly for a mask. A smile. He bows. “My name is Goro; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He hopes Sakamoto-san never watches TV, or at least not talk shows that detectives get invited to.

“Likewise,” says Ryuji’s mother. “Ryuji said you’ll be staying the night?”

“If that’s alright?”

“Oh, sure,” answers Sakamoto-san. She waves a hand as if brushing away his concern. “But please excuse the mess, I haven’t been home and Ryuji doesn’t clean unless I tell him to.” She sighs but somehow, it’s as if she does it with fondness. Kindly.

This already strange situation is getting even stranger, even more unfamiliar, and Goro still doesn’t know how to act. But Sakamoto-san doesn’t say anything else, or stare at him, so Goro supposes his expression must’ve looked natural enough and that Ryuji’s mother didn’t recognise him. She passes him, opening some other door, and Akechi hurries on to the kitchen before she can come back out.

* * *

While on TV the guy managed to give the impression he’d been raised by royalty to use seven different kinds of forks and had never in his life eaten any sort of fast-food, Akechi looks surprisingly normal at their kotatsu. Normal, and _awkward_. He removed his jacket when Ryuji’s mum asked, and since then he’s been awkwardly folding and refolding his arms, clasping his hands on the table, withdrawing, making aborted gestures and shifting around.

It’s deeply weird to watch. It’d be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.

After dinner the both of them retreat to Ryuji’s room, and Ryuji, determined to not have this end like those awkward sleep-over attempts you do in elementary school with kids you barely know, quickly says, “So, about Shido’s Palace…”

“Yes?” says Goro flatly. He sits down on the spare futon, clasps his hands together, and looks up at Ryuji. Well, okay then.

It’s crazy how ominously red Akechi’s eyes look. Anyway-

“Whatever he thinks of you is complete and utter bullshit, alright?” says Ryuji. “But if you want to… I dunno, talk about everything or whatever, then-“

“ _No_ thank you,” says Goro immediately, like a huge liar. Why’s he always so incredibly high-strung?

“Okay,” says Ryuji. So, if Akechi doesn’t want to talk about the past, then how about- “Have you ever like, thought about your future?”

“I assumed I wouldn’t have one.” Wow. Akechi’s face is grim as he says all dramatically, “And I was _fine_ with it. At 15 I was so consumed by rage and lust for vengeance that I didn’t care whether I lived or died… I was an idiot.”

“Yeah,” agrees Ryuji. “Just cause you were a kid doesn’t make any of what you did okay.”

“No shit Sakamoto,” he snaps, then bows his head. “I just don’t think there’s any way I could feasibly atone, either way.”

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” says Ryuji. “And don’t cuss, my mum might hear you.”

“Fine,” says Akechi. “Now, are you quite done?”

Not really, no, but Akechi’s not exactly a delight to talk to. And anyway, _Akira_ probably wants to be the one to handle the deep discussions where they pry all Akechi’s secrets from him. They seem to get a kick out of figuring other people out.

* * *

It takes Akechi three hours to fall asleep. When he wakes on Thursday morning he lies completely still and listens to the unfamiliar sounds of someone moving around in a kitchen for a minute before finally dragging himself upright. He checks his phone, first of all, seeing that Akira’s texted him something. And Shido.

Goro debates with himself for a long minute before opening the text.

 _Any progress_ , he asks. Insinuating that there’s nothing else Akechi could possibly be busy with. As if Akechi’s always at his beck and call.

All at once Akechi remembers the dead-eyed cognition he’d killed and mutilated and for _what_ , it’d only _respawn_ , and before he can stop himself he’s typed up a scathing response and pressed send.

AKECHI: I’m afraid I won’t be doing as you requested, and while I’m aware you find nothing better to do with your time than to harass teenagers, you must realise that it’s rather difficult to get elected the legitimate way – but then again, what do _you_ know of politics?

Goro stares at his screen.

Then he deletes Shido’s number, and drops the phone in favour of burying himself beneath the blanket.

What has he _done_ , he thinks in numb horror.

Then, with Loki’s wild delight, oh, what _did_ he do? Take that, Shido.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akechi: is this how a Normal Human Teenager would behave? is it? it is, right???  
> akira:


End file.
